And Our Dad Was Leonard Church
by Fourth in Command Cixalea Jwan
Summary: Basically a RvB AU where the Freelancers are siblings and the Director is their dad. Warning: Some violence, possible triggers, and rather dark themes. Only pairings: DirectorxAllison and hints of AlphaxTex. Completed.
1. Ages 5 to 11: Part 1

**I do not own Red vs Blue. That is owned by Rooster Teeth.**

I climbed up the hot, humid bus. It bounced under my weight a little as I hurried on and claimed a seat.

First one.

Always.

I pulled off my backpack and placed it in the seat behind me to prevent other kids from taking that seat as well. It was my job to get here first. I always had. My brothers and sisters were depending on it so they sauntered on whenever they wanted, but I was mostly doing it for my youngest siblings. I didn't want them to have to sit next to a strange kid who was much older and much bigger than them. I had to keep an eye out for them. It was my job as the big sister.

After a minute or two, Yorick came on too. He sat in the seat across the isle from me and used his backpack in a similar fashion to claim the seat behind him as well. He smiled a silent greeting to me in the sort of half-smirk he does. Quirky little kid but dependable. I nodded back.

Next David clummered on and took the seat Yorick saved. He hoisted the tan backpack over the seat with his small arms, and it slid back to Yorick's side. David fidgeted around in the seat. The kid could never keep still. Maybe that's why he peed his bed even at age seven.

He was shortly followed by Northrop and Sal. They were in all the same classes, being twins, so they always got on the bus around the same time, but they kept about a few feet's distance apart. They didn't want to have to associate with each other for as long as they could help it. They saw the other all the time. It got boring and annoying. They often fought over stuff, and their arguments could be heard in the wee early hours of the morning. Their personalities just clashed too severely. Sal took the empty seat I claimed while Northrop sat with me.

Constance Tay trodded aboard the huge yellow bus after them. Her shoulders hunched over as she tried to avoid strangers' glances. She sat next to Sal.

The bus was filling almost to capacity by now, but I was still missing two brothers. Eventually, among the last kids out of the K-6 school, waltzed Reginald. He walked on slower than molasses like he owned the place. He probably did in his own mind. Time meant nothing to him. He didn't care how long we would have had to wait for him. The world revolved around_ his _time schedule. He would get on when he darn well pleased. He walked to David's seat and picked up the littler kid's backpack. With a few short moves he tossed it in Yorick's seat without a word.

"Reggie! I was here _first_!"

"Move, David."

David stopped his pleading as he knew it would not get him anywhere with him. He sighed angrily and stomped over to the seat with Yorick. He crossed his arms and pouted his lips while Reginald, quite pleased with himself, stretched his entire nine-year-old frame over the entire empty seat. I flashed Reginald a dirty look for picking on poor David, but he just smiled and stuck his tongue out at me. Ugh.

Well, now, where was Jermaine? I pressed myself to the cold glass window as I combed the stragglers of the crowd for my youngest brother. I was looking for his buzzed, red hair and his stubby, five-year-old form.

The sidewalk cleared, and the busses started to pull away from the school.

"Have you seen, Maine?" I asked frantically because our last brother never appeared.

My siblings shoot their heads as Yorick stood up on his seat to see if Jermaine had snuck on and sat somewhere else. Everyone was crammed two to a seat except for Reginald. Our bus started to lurch forward knocking Yorick back to sitting in his seat.

"Stop the bus!" I yelled as I took my turn to stand.

The bus driver lady glared at me questioningly in the mirror and squawked at me to sit down.

"No! My brother isn't on! Stop!"

She took a brief look at the sidewalk. Seeing no one she cackled, "Maybe you should recount your herd?"She then coughed from too many years of chain smoking.

It was common knowledge that there were a ton of us -the Churches- but I was not about to let her leave my brother at the school. I shoved Northrop out of the seat and ran to the front of the bus. The driver lady stopped quickly, and I slammed against the doors. She was screaming with what volume her damaged lungs would allow her. I pried the doors open and ran out to the concrete sidewalk and back into the elementary school.

I ran to the kindergarden wing poking a head into all the classrooms along the way. No sign of him.

"Maine!" I called.

Nothing.

"Jermaine Church! Where are you!" I screamed, panicking more by the moment.

I heard a thunder of footsteps behind me as I saw the rest of my team was running after me. Yorick had my backpack for me.

"Why didn't you guys just go home?"

"Reggie did, but we wanted to help. Did you find him?"

"No," I sighed. "Maybe he got on the wrong bus?"

It was a possibility, but wouldn't he have noticed we weren't there? Wouldn't he have seen me flying into the school?

"How are we gonna get home?" Constance Tay asked softly as she scraped her foot along the carpet, preoccupied with the squeaking of the little wheel in the sole of her shoes. Something Dad got for her when she wasn't in a stubborn and rebellious mood.

"We_ walk_, genius!" Sal said, frustrated more at the situation than Constance Tay herself, but there was still venom in her words none the less. The younger girl spun around on her heels with a little huff and continued making the wheel spin while looking down away from the group.

"Well, we have to find him first, right?" Northrop tried to take some of the tensity out of the situation.

"He's not in any of the classrooms."

"What about the cafeteria? Or the bathrooms? Or the playground?"

"Good idea. Boys check the restrooms, and the girls will check everywhere else. Meet back at the lobby when you're done," I ordered as everyone dispersed.

I headed to the play ground. It was just a hunch, but that was where I would go if I wanted to hide on school grounds. Sure enough, when I climbed to the top of the jungle gym, I found him hiding half inside the top of the multi-coloured plastic slide. He didn't even flinch as I sat down outside the tube.

**So this is basically a RvB AU where the Freelancers are actually siblings and the Director is their dad. I'm not planning on adding in the Reds and Blues into it, but I might if I get really hooked on this. I have no plan to introduce any OCs so for those of you who hate them, this will make your day. I just really hope that I don't make the characters OOC. I'm gonna try not to. **

**In case you haven't figured it out, this was written from Carolina's point of view. You can probably guess which Freelancer is which. I had to get really creative with the names which was actually lots of fun. I'll have more detail about them in a later chapter. **

**I'm planning on having three stages of time. The first when they all range in ages from 5-11 in which this chapter would fall under. Then progress to when they're slightly older 11-17. Then 17-23. Each of the Freelancers are a year apart in age except for North and South, and their age is dependent upon their rankings on the board we first see in season 9 with Carolina being the oldest and Maine being the youngest. I made CT older than Maine because it seems like when we first see her in season 9 that she just got knocked off the board from the mission she just failed. And then we have no idea where Maine is in the rankings initially so I just made him the youngest of the bunch.**

**Sorry for the long outro. Looking forward to it!**


	2. Ages 5 to 11: Part 2

**I do not own RVB. Red vs Blue belongs to Rooster Teeth.**

"Why did you come on the bus?"

All I got in response from the boy was a blink of his bright blue eyes. It seemed he wasn't in a verbal mood today so I stuck to "yes" and "no" questions.

"Do you not like riding the bus?"

He shrugged and fiddled with his shirt sleeve. That's when I noticed a fat tear roll down his cheek.

"You're crying, Maine-Maine!"

I struggled to translate that to a "yes" or "no" so all I ended up doing was stating the obvious. I didn't know what I could do to help if he didn't tell me anything! I pleaded with him silently.

He gave me a quick glance then kicked his backpack to me. I opened it and found a note from his teacher. It recommended he be either enrolled in speech therapy or work through the enunciation packet she gave him with a parent. Now, I understood. He was only five, but he knew exactly what that piece of paper really meant. Pain.

Jermaine had a stutter, and dad couldn't stand it. He thought it made him sound unintelligent, something, if you got to know Jermaine, that would be quickly refuted. Nevertheless, Dad never liked thinking that any of his kids had imperfections so he figured he could just beat the stutter out of him. His own cheap version of therapy. Young though Jermaine was, if he ever said anything now, it was certainly not in front of dad and certainly not any word that had a "w" in it.

I held the note in my hand and mentally tore it to pieces. I hated the teacher for writing it. She didn't know how much pain she was naively causing my little brother. She couldn't know, but I hated her for it regardless.

It really was a dilemma. I didn't blame Jermaine for hiding now. He didn't know what to do. All he knew in his five-year-old brain was that he just couldn't go home.

"So you're going to live here then? On the playground?"

Maine hadn't figured out sarcasm yet- how it was meant or how to use it himself. He angled his pitiful eyes at me. There was something about the intensity of Jermaine's eyes. They were always brimming with whatever emotion he was feeling and got me every time. Eyes that were so vulnerable. Another thing dad hated but practically everyone else loved.

"Just…don't show the paper to dad." I felt bad suggesting that Jermaine lie, but I couldn't leave him on the plastic play set.

"Come on." I pushed him down the slide, and he squealed as he slid down. I grabbed his small Transformers backpack and jumped down quickly. I was kinda big for the slide, but I tumbled out eventually almost squishing him as he was trying to block the bottom of the slide. I smashed against him, and we both fell to the mulch below. He was laughing as he crawled away and threw a handful of wood ships as me for good measure. I picked them out of my hair and dusted off the top of his head.

"Now let's go get everyone else."

"…thanks." He smiled, and we walked back to the meeting place I designated.

After our group recollected, we started our walk home. We didn't live all that far, but we were gonna be walking for a little while. Constance Tay kept using her rolly-shoes to skate far ahead of us. I had to keep telling her to keep close. After the millionth time, both of us were tired of it.

"What are you? _Mom_?" She sassed back one time.

I _felt_ like their mother. All the time. Either that or an unpaid babysitter.

"Shut your mouth, CT!" I hissed back.

Mom was a delicate subject. No one really knew the full story of what happened to her, and we all felt different about her too. She was gone before I was old enough to remember her, but she obviously had Jermaine before her disappearance. Dad never addressed the subject to all of us, and we never pressed the matter because of his unpredictability about a mention of her. Sometimes he would go on a rampage –screaming and throwing everything, while other times he would just have a mental breakdown with sobs –inconsolable for hours at a time.

Each of us had bits and pieces of the mystery. Eavesdropping during one of dad's nightmared arguments with himself, if he was simply feeling sentimental, or if it just slipped out. We never really talked about it out loud. We exchanged our scraps of info like it was currency in our own country -Greater Republic of the Island of Church.

'I'll tell you what dad said mom's favorite color was if you do my homework for the week?'

It was that sort of thing. I felt like I had accumulated the most info altogether. I was most able to do homework since I was the oldest, and I was also dad's favorite.

I wouldn't think that if it weren't true. He loved me best, gave me the best of everything, but, most of all, I was his confidant. I think it was because I looked the most like Mom.

I compiled she had red hair and green eyes. I believed it too because I could see a part of her in all of us. A hint of green in our irises or a slight tint of red in our locks. If it wasn't there, there was an obvious trait from dad in its place which was either dark hair or brown eyes. There were even hybrids of both, but we were surely the products of our father and a ginger, sage-eyed mother who had disappeared from our lives at least five years ago.

For some, like Constance Tay and Reginald and even me sometimes, our mother was of no consequence. She left and there was nothing we could do about it. Other people lost their mothers too. We just had to deal with it.

To Yoric, Northrop, and me most of the time, she was a woman we would have liked to know, but was more almost ficticious. She didn't seem real most of the time. Other than the impossibility of our existence without her, it was like we never, ever had one. A sad circumstance. A thing to have the occasional day dream about, but we knew what the reality was.

But with Jermaine, David, and Sal, the mention of Mom meant intense, prolonged silence and reflection, tears, and enraged psychosis respectively.

Each of them were saying the same thing to themselves. What did we do to deserve this, and why did she leave? I quickly attempted to change the subject before things got had been silent the whole time anyway, but I could see the tears welling up in David and Sal's fists clenching.

"I think there's a few bags of popcorn left? Who wants to watch a movie when we get home?"

"I call one of the popcorns!" Northrop called while Sal quickly called another as well.

"No," I smiled and shook my head, "we're gonna share, guys." They all knew there weren't eight bags of popcorn.

"Then can we watch something other than a comedy?"

"Yeah, they get old after a while. But, let's not watch an stupid action movie."

"What other kind of movies are there then?"

"No chick flicks either!"

I rolled my eyes. If they wanted to argue about something, at least it was this. The arguing continued up until we all climbed inside the house and closed the door.

Dad was standing there at the top of the stairs holding a yardstick. All arguing stopped. All breaths were caught in our throats.

"Where were you."

It wasn't a question. We were late. Roaming the streets by ourselves. He was going to inflict the pain of his wooden measuring stick no matter what, but he still requested an explanation.

Without taking my eyes away from dad, I grabbed Jermaine's wrist. He was trembling, and, if he ran, he'd be beaten worse for sure. He just had to take it.

I still tried my best to explain ourselves out of it, or at least take the edge off his fury.

"We…Jermaine missed the bus so we walked home with him." It was basically true. He did miss the bus, but I left out the motives.

"Reginald came home on the bus."

"He came to tell you where we were."

That wasn't something I actually told him to do, but it would have been common sense. I guess I expected too much of him. He probably wouldn't have said anything if I told him to though just to spite me. After this, I was gonna go beat _him_.

Dad then, assessing the situation, narrowed his eyes to choose a victim. He never beat us in front of each other and never more than one at a time. He looked at me, and I tried to look as innocent as possible.

His eyes fell to Jermaine. For some reason, he was his favorite punching bag. Maybe because he could take the most. It took a lot of damage to get him to crack. While the rest of us, it was less than ten minutes before we physically couldn't take any more. For Jermaine, he could take a half hour and not even whimper. I didn't know if it was just the way he was built or if he was simply used to it, but I even saw him after one session with a completely shattered nose, blood screaming down his face, and he wasn't even crying. The kid was destined to be some sort of boxer. Not that he liked the beatings any more than the rest of us did.

Dad walked slowly down the stairs and grabbed Jermaine's small wrist from mine. I let go reluctantly, but what could I do? We all watched silently as he was dragged upstairs into the spare bedroom and closed the door.

**So that was the second chapter of my story. **

**I tried to think of what sort of dad the Director would actually be. In light of what he can do to himself (or an artificial version of himself) and how he can be so ruthless with the rankings of his Freelancers, I made him so he provides practically everything financially that the kids would ever want, but he cares absolutely none about them. **

**I thought it would be a creative explanation if Maine was just an abused kid with a stutter which would explain why he doesn't talk much even before he was famously muted and include why he can seemingly not die no matter how much heat he gets.**

**I really hope I'm not getting Carolina too OOC, but I'm gonna get more of the win-at-any-cost Carolina more when Tex shows up. That's how I pictured she was -more of a protector- before Tex showed up. She would protect her own but only her own. **

**Comment if you so desire.**

**Looking forward to it****.**


	3. Ages 5 to 11: Part 3

**I do not own Red vs Blue. It and all its awesome is owned by Rooster Teeth.**

Whenever a beating happened, the same sequence of events took place.

Northrop, Yoric, and Sal had a sudden desire to play outside the house. While Constance Tay either took off to hide under her bed or stood where she was, frozen, whether by horror or fury, and flinching every time a knock sent the walls rattling as if it was her own body receiving punishment. David would always come find me and never leave my side like he was a mosquito. I normally went outside with the other older kids, but I had other business.

I marched downstairs to see Reginald sittin' on the couch eating what looked like the last of the popcorn. Now, I was furious. I smacked the paper bag from his hand and the brown curnels scattered all over the floor.

"Why didn't you tell Dad where we were! Maine's getting the crap kicked out of him, and now you're just eating the rest of our popcorn that I promised we'd _share_ when we got home like it's no big deal!"

Reginald remained calm. He looked me in the eyes and said steadily, "Do you think it would 'ave made any difference?" Then turned back to watching TV.

The truth was, he was right. Jermaine was going to get beat the moment he decided not to get on the bus with us. Probably if he tried to explain anything, there would be many others of us beaten too. I sighed but my shoulders remained stiff. I still wanted to be mad, but his logic was sound. A thump from above our heads made all of us flinch. David scooted closer to my side.

"Come on," I told him, and led David outside. Reginald trailed slowly.

"Boss?" David asked, his big, brown eyes wide and young as we walked through the neglected grass, down the driveway, and to the sidewalk.

"Yeah?"

"What...are we having for dinner?" It was like he was digging for a topic of conversations as we sat on the curb watching our brothers play basketball in the street.

They were playing a three-person HORSE game.

"I don't know, Davy," I sighed. Dad was probably too _busy _right now.

David picked up a piece of yellow chalk that was slightly moist from being left there in the rain and other elements. He rolled it around in his hands contemplatively. Then he started writing. The chalk wasn't as loud as it scraped against the concrete when it was damp. I watched him absently until I realized what he was writing. David never was the artistic type. He was writing our names. He was smart for a second grader though, and his penmanship was exquisite. Even in chalk it was evident that each stroke was placed deliberately -this wasn't becuase he was stressing on how perfect the letters were shaped, but that he was writing something significant. Almost as if he was attempting to infuse purpose into them. He just learned cursive, but it seemed like he had been practicing for years. David was that way. He had to master everything, and he believed he could as long as he was taught how to do it.

A practical dreamer.

He stared at his completed work, adding touch ups as if it were a piece of art and not yellow play chalk against grey concrete.

"Hey, boss, it got me thinking," he paused shortly as he was organizing his thoughts, "Do you think Mom named us? Or Dad?"

It was an odd question. I failed to see how it mattered. The thought of it went as far as resenting how horribly obscure our names were and ended there.

"Maybe they took turns? Because your name is normal, and there's two other 'David's in my class. But I've never heard of someone named Reginald, Jermaine, Northrop, or Sal." He was looking at me for an answer. As if I knew?

I would have to know Mom's personality to make my decision. I wasn't even sure I could guess what Dad would name anything. We never had a dog or anything. He was creative that was for sure. I mean, he had to be because he was a movie director. It was his profession to be creative and creatively solve problems. But, what would be going through his mind as to naming his child? I had no idea.

My name was fairly simple. I didn't mind it all that much. It could have been worse -especially when compared to my other siblings'.

'Yoric' was after the guy in Hamlet. The famous scene where Hamlet holds up a skull and claims he remembers the owner as a jester named 'Yoric.' The only way I know that is because everyone kinda slurs the name into one syllable and calls him 'York.' Dad, one time, flipped out when everyone kept saying it wrong. "It's two syllables," he raged, "like the guy in Hamlet!" I don't know if that's really who Yoric's named after or a way Dad got his point across, but it's all we got.

'Reginald' was probably England-influenced just like 'Yoric', but 'Reginald' isn't the name of any Shakespearean character. Just British.

I had my theory on Northrop 'cause that was the town in England where we lived before we moved to Texas. We moved shortly after Reginald was born there. That's why Reggie insists on talking with his stupid British accent because he claims he's more British than American even though the rest of us picked up American accents right away. He can't even remember living there either. Whatever.

Northrop and Sal, if you wanted to stretch it, could have symbolized our transition from the town of Northrop to Texas. A really British town and a really American name. Who actually knew? Some have even taken to calling them 'North' and 'South' because they're polar opposite in personality and also from the first part of 'Northrop' and the fact that 'Sal' sounds kinda like 'South' with a Southern drawl. Stupid, I know.

With 'David' it was like they finally had some sense talked into them, but that didn't last long with the next child being named 'Constance Tay!'

That could have been a tribute to the Southern double-name thing, but that was an old school thing, but not the _cool_ old school. Who names their kid "Constance?" It's a granny name. And 'Tay?' 'Tay' isnt' even a name! Short for 'Taylor' possibly, but it isn't in her case. It's just 'Tay.' She hates it and no one blames her.

'Jermaine' was a little back down to Earth, but _still_.

Was David looking for which parent to thank for his normal name? Maybe he wanted a piece of info to trade for? Or maybe he just wanted to have a piece of his long lost mother to hold on to? I didn't know.

I was tired from school. I really didn't want to think right now. I was kinda tired from the walk home, or maybe I was tired of thinking. I had a feeling that mention of Mom also fatigued me a little. She had that effect on me even from where ever she was.

Emotions didn't exactly know what distance was -only time.

"I wish I had one memory of her," he said with the voice of someone much older than him.

Mom was darn powerful. David never opened up like this. Everything he said was in a sort of calculating and a sort of sarcastic manner. Maybe that's why he was so obsessed with her. She was the one thing he could probably never figure out -never be able to fully grasp. He wasn't giving up, but it was like he was in an in between step in his thought process. I had no idea why he decided to talk to _me_ about it. I wasn't exactly the most heartfelt person. Was it because he just always followed me around when there was a beating? Why did he do that anyway? He followed me around like I was some sort of ring leader or the commander in the army we were in. He even called me "boss." Without any sarcasm or resentment in his voice. Anyway, I wasn't about to ruin his dreams.

"York!"

We all turned around to see Constance Tay standing in the doorway with tears streaming down her face. The session must have ended.

Yoric passed the basketball to Northrop as he quickly jogged back into the house. The rest of us followed slowly as if to a funeral.

**Thank you for all you who are reading my story. I'll try to update more consistently. :D**

**Thank you, ****KxNovax77, for reviewing my story! I really appreciate it! Have no fear. Tex will be in future chapters kicking butt and taking names like she always does but probably in the next age grouping. You'll have to wait and see how Tex makes her grand appearance.**

**If you guys want to see my geekdom at its height, you can see my deviantart account where I have a list of all the questions and theories I have about Red vs Blue. It's pretty extensive because I don't have a life (obviously). .com/**

**I think there will be maybe a few more chapters of ages 5-11 then I'll start on when they're teenagers. That's gonna be lots o' fun. Bwahahahaha.**


	4. Ages 5 to 11: Part 4

**I do not own RVB. RVB belongs to Rooster Teeth.**

Northrop peaked in the kitchen as he sat the abused basketball on the couch. Once again, nothing was being prepared for us eight to eat. The pantry was always stocked to the brim, but that didn't mean squat until someone actually cooked it. Blonde Northrop gave me a look, and I nodded with an added, huge sigh. He was the real chef between all of us. I was just there to provide second opinions and to speed the process along. We agreed on the staple of all children's food: Macaroni and Cheese. A side of celery was something I insisted on. Northrop sighed this time, clearly mocking me, as he knew we all hated healthy stuff like that, but I had to make it look like I at least tried to be the mature, older sibling. He didn't ague with me but just smiled and dug out the stalks of cold, green bleh from the fridge.

"If you want 'um, _you_ have to cut 'um up." He tossed them to me with a quick flick of his wrist.

That's what I liked about Northrop. He was always nice to work with. He wasn't a pushover, but he never argued unless it was absolutely necessary. He was like Reginald in the fact he was casual, but Northrop was much nicer, and, you know, all the things Reginald wasn't.

I could hear the TV blaring from downstairs and saw some of the others walking past in view from where I was standing, but I kept my eyes pealed specifically for Jermaine and Yoric. How bad was this one? It never left the back of my mind at any point when we were preparing the meal. I had to know how my baby brother was doing! I hadn't seen Dad yet. He usually came down to make sure that we were keeping the food prepared to his standards. Was that good or bad? I didn't want to think about it and returned to chopping the celery.

We placed the various plates and eating utensils on the large, dining room table. The dining room was the 'fancy' room of the house. No rough housing in there. The china cabinet held, well, china as well as propping up other valuables that were family heirlooms or something. It was also where Dad displayed his wealth. Pictures of him with famous actors that made appearances in his films, the crowd that gathered outside the movie theater on opening day of his film, and framed cut-outs of positive reviews of his movies in the paper. I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck bristle.

I spun around to see little Constance Tay lurking just inside the doorway. Her eyes downcast and narrowed. David was standing beside her.

"Strange how there are over a dozen picture frames, yet not one of them is us or Mom."

I hadn't realized I was staring at those frames for so long. How long had they been standing there?

"Of course he has pictures of us," David started out comfortingly then changed instantaneously as his eyes jumped to me now, "right?"

I remained silent. I didn't know.

"They're just not...they're _somewhere_, at least?"

"Go wash up. Dinner's almost ready." I corralled them back out of the dining room before things got bad.

_Constance Tay! Why didn't she just keep her mouth shut! I swear! The girl has no tact at all! _I raged to myself, hoping I'd cut David off before he started over-thinking things and getting all upset.

Once again, dinner was exquisite. It had a distinct Northrop-esque touch to it which seemed to summon children to the table from all corners of the house. I didn't know how he could turn a bunch of noodles lathered in fake cheese into something that smelled _that_ good, but he always pulled it off somehow. He even threw out a jar of peanut butter on the table to make the celery bearable.

We sat in our usual spots around the wooden dinner table. Well, Reginald attempted to take his plate to the TV downstairs, but Dad entered the room. He glared down at his blonde son, and Reginald quickly returned to the table.

Finally, I was able to see what condition Jermaine was in. Barely a head over the table, I could see he was having trouble with his fork. His fingers were swollen and blue -almost black- on his right hand. He was attempting to be left-handed when he was already uncoordinated being a five-year-old. He gripped his tiny, fat fingers around the fork and stabbed the slippery noodles with little success. I could also smell the hydrogen peroxide held in his hair from a small head wound that was still kinda bleeding. Yoric couldn't put a bandaid on with his hair in the way. At least he disinfected it. A collage of newly applied, brightly coloured bandaids replaced freshly aggravated old ones. Unless there were more I couldn't see, that seemed to be the sum of the damage. I wanted to ask if his fingers were broken, if he could move them, if he wanted more ice, but it was an unwritten law that you just didn't discuss it in front of the one who inflicted the pain. It wasn't very smart. So I stayed quiet.

Constance Tay looked like she was about to explode as she too was looking over the youngest brother's recent battle scars. She didn't say anything either but angrily slopped some more macaroni on her plate and stabbed her fork into the noodles repeatedly.

Why didn't he just come home with us on the bus! He could have saved himself so much pain!

There was an uneasiness at the table, but that was usual. The clanging of silverware to plate was all that could be heard.

"So...does everyone like it?" Northrop asked with a timid smile.

"Yeah. It tastes slightly different," Yoric replied, casually forging conversation through the silence -something only he seemed able to do.

"I put some pepper in it, and I cooked it a bit too long, I think, but I also put bits of actual cheese in that I got from the fridge. Is it okay?"

"Oh, yeah! It tastes great! By 'different' I meant it in a good way. Compliments to the chef!"

"Thanks!" Northrop beamed. His face pinked too easily because of how pale his skin was, but it just seemed to fit him. He was being sincere.

"I got an A+ on my multiplication tables, _and_ I got the fastest time in the rely race in gym!" Sal announced proudly.

"Good job," was Dad's slow reply.

"What about you, Caroline?" Dad asked me now.

"Um..."

"I go the highest grade on my spelling test! The teacher even said that-"

"David!" Dad glared at him, "You interrupted Caroline!"

"I-I'm still thinking! He didn't interrupt!" I insisted quickly.

"Fine. What grade did you get?"

"A...'B+.'"

"'A 'B+'?'" Dad repeated as if he found a hair in his food.

"Yeah, but it was still the highest grade! It was really, really hard-"

"Why didn't you get an A?"

"Because...I..." he stammered.

Dad rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Have you thought of anything yet?" He drug his heavy eyes framed by glasses over to me again.

"I didn't have any quizzes today, but I do have one later this week?" My report was more of a question.

"And you'll get a 100% on it, right."

"Yes, sir. It should be easy. It's...just a...history quiz..." My voice faded as I told more details.

"Have you been studying?"

"Yes. Everyday." That I was able to say proudly.

Dad smiled, "That's my girl."

A bomb might as well gone off in the room as everyone paused mid-stream of whatever they were doing. A wave of envious eyes surged through them. It was in various degrees, but I could have sworn almost all of them would have stormed out if not for Dad's presence keeping them glued to their seats.

Constance Tay was occupying herself by trying to cram as many pieces of mac n cheese onto the tongs of her fork as possible while Reginald was using his celery stick to shovel peanut butter into his mouth rather than eat the gross, good-for-you good. It was pretty clear everyone had lost their true appetite.

"May we be excused?" A slightly disheartened David asked barely above a whisper.

"Wash your plates off in the sink."

David nodded his dark head and everyone picked up their plates to follow him.

As I walked up the stairs, Sal rushed by, shouldering me in to the wall.

"Watch it!" I hissed.

She sneered back at me, unrepentant, as she stomped up the the bedroom and slammed the door. I trudged after her and opened the door reluctantly.

That night, I was awoken by the sound of sniffling beneath me. I listened for a while waiting for it to stop, but the bunk below me still kept crying. I rolled over to the edge of my bed and peered down.

Constance Tay was tangled up in her blankets with a pillow on top of her head instead of under. She was sleeping sound -except for the occasional snore that escaped from beneath the mass of fluff and fabric. She slept on the floor because there were only two bunks.

I leaned farther over until I could see the mess that was lying on the bottom bunk. Sal, with her hair strewn and laced between the sheets, on her side, resting her head on her arm, wiped her face with her pajama sleeve. Her eyebrows were pinched, and her nose wrinkled in a fuming anger. Was she _still_ upset about Dad's comment? He did say she did a good job on her math thing, right? Did that not count for anything? She needed to lighten up.

I rolled back onto my pillow frankly unsympathetic. I scratched my fingernail into the paint on the ceiling. White chips fell on my shirt, and I blew them off to the foot of the bed. I sighed and pulled the covers back up to my neck. After a few heavy blinks, my eyes fell asleep, but my brain kept itself busy. Engaging me even in my dreams with problems to solve and people to please.

**First off, thank you Greader and Ice princess for reviewing my last chapter! Thank you for the support! (distributes cookies)**

**This is the last part of the first age group. Next chapters will be for the second age group: 11-17 (The teens!). Those will mostly follow the season nine Freelancer flashbacks, just it will be in my AU style to fit with the fic. It's actually challenging and really entertaining to try to make the scenes fit in the story. I will, of course, put some "original" (I don't really think anything can be considered truly "original" in a fanfiction) things in there too so it doesn't get too predictable. **

**(I love writing for CT for some reason. She's just the most awesome, cynical character that is in total foil to pretty much everyone else.) **

**The next ages will not have Carolina as the main view that's revolved around. It will switch. So those of you who hate Carolina, you'll have your chance. Tex will be appearing in this set of ages (just for you, Greader)! **

**Sorry about the link to my deviantart account. I don't know why it didn't post for some reason. My username is Cixalea and the website is, obviously, deviantart. Just search 'deviantart' on google, then search my username on the site and some of my stories should pop up. Just click on my name and it will take you to my profile. **

**Also, if you haven't read my deviantart journal, it's all the questions I have about RvB that I would like answered at some point in the new season. It's incredibly extensive and makes me look like a complete nerd so check it out. Tell me what you think about my theories or something you would like to see answered too.**

**Comment away! Looking forward to it!**


	5. Ages 11 to 17: Part 1

**I do not own Red vs Blue. Red vs Blue belongs to Rooster Teeth.**

Caroline went through a silent headcount once again. She ran down her mental list: herself, York, Reggie, North, South, Wash, CT, Maine, and..._her_. She wasn't even sure if she included her yet. This was their first "new" family outing. A sort of excuse to get out of the hell-hole that was their house, but, more formally, it was a get-to-know-you field trip. An official welcome into the family -using the loosest possible definition of 'welcome' and 'family.'

"Where's Wash?" She asked, annoyed as she wrung her hands together -a habit she picked up. York shrugged with a simultaneous sigh as they began searching through the mass at the crowded gate of the amusement park. He must have wandered off again.

David was Wash's real name, but he had become 'Wash' over the years. Because there were eight -no- _nine_ of them, the house was run militarily. Either that or it would have been burned to the ground years ago. Each was assigned as specific duty of house maintenance. It was the most efficient and practical way to handle things in their obnoxiously large family: assembly line style.

David's job was the overall cleanliness of everything. He was the one that washed the dishes, washed the car, washed the floors, and, well, everything else. The job was simple, detail-oriented, and perfectionist-friendly. The job fit him excellently, although, it was a tireless job. It was never really done. Especially since the house just seemed to accumulate dirt and debris like a magnet.

Anyhow, most of them had taken to calling him 'Wash' because that was what it seemed like every sentence addressed to him started with. 'Wash the carpet!' 'Wash the laundry!' It annoyed him, but it's what they had taken to calling him whenever they were frustrated with him.

Caroline's job was obvious. She was the self-proclaimed leader. The alpha dog in the pack. She had the occasional challenge for her position. York (as everyone now called him whenever their dad wasn't around) would get a little prissy or North (also a nickname that would give their dad a conniption fit) would assume too much responsibility, but she quickly refuted their claim and, just as fast, put them back in their place. Not that she probably had to. They wouldn't stand a day trying to hold this circus together.

They didn't have time for this. The amusement park opened in just a few minutes, and they fully intended to be the first one's on the fastest roller coaster, the park's biggest attraction, by beating everyone else there in the classic sprint all early theme park goers participate in once the park is first opened.

South was uncharacteristically patient. In the hot sun, she had already stripped off her shirt leaving her just in her short shorts and her purple bikini with the green straps that she wore for the waterpark section of the themepark. As intended, she did get a few stares from some of the other loitering park patrons. Although she was only fourteen, she was rather toned and quite developed for her age. Something she obviously didn't mind showing off. She ran her hand through her hair, twirling the newly-chopped ends with her fingers as she leaned against the side of the gate like a model.

"South, you're supposed to have a shirt on over your bathing suit while you're in the park. The waterpark doesn't even open until a few hours after the regular park has opened," North stated in that polite but condescending tone he does.

South (her nickname that forever linked her with her already twin brother) put her hand on her hip as she modeled a new pose for a few boys standing in a group a little way off. "I don't think they'll mind." Then she smirked over her shoulder to the boys she was talking about as they tried to avert their gapes nonchalantly but totally failing.

North rolled his eyes at her and gave the perverted, teenaged boys a glare for so obviously ogling his twin sister. The boys laughed at his warning and opened their arms in a 'come at me, bro!' North gritted his teeth and popped his knuckles as he was just about to go ahead 'come at them,' when Wash came running up.

"Sorry! I left my ticket in the car!"

"Nice going," York bled sarcastically.

"So are we going to get to the front of the crowd or not?" Reggie said, as he began pushing his way through the crowd like he was parting the Red Sea. The Churches followed him.

"Have you ever been here before, Texas?" York asked. He was the first one to address the newcomer at all today.

Frankly, Caroline didn't feel responsible for her and generally left her out of all her equations. Texas was eighteen -an adult. She could take care of herself. She didn't seem to take an interest in the rest of her siblings either so Caroline surrendering her position as dominant sibling to Texas simply because she was a year older _wasn't going to happen_. She freaking earned her position through years of hard labor. Texas was on the bottom of the pecking order from Caroline's point of view. A place she'd probably stay.

She just showed up out of nowhere one day. For some reason, their dad came home with her like a new pet and said they were going to keep her. The reason? _She was their older sister_. You can imagine that went over smoothly. Of course he provided no further explanation. If she was true blood, a half sibiling, or adopted -they didn't know. And because Texas seemed not to be the talking or caring type, they were left dumbfounded and in need of an extra everything around their home.

To put it mildly, it was an extreme inconvenience. To put it how it actually was, it was horribly timed, frustrating beyond belief, confusing as all get out, and another headache for Caroline to wrestle with 24/7.

Tex made it clear the first day that she didn't want to be under Caroline's care like everyone else. Caroline was more than fine with that. However, Texas also didn't want to take on her share of responsibilities of the house. That was something Caroline couldn't deal with.

"Nope. Never been here," the new Church stated simply, almost bored -at a theme park.

York the proceeded to explain our plan of action to her. It was simple: get to the coaster before everyone else by any means necessary.

"Just try to keep up with us," North grinned, not meaning to insult his new older sister but he just didn't want her to be left behind. He didn't know if she was a good runner or not.

Tex cracked a smile -the first any of us had seen- as she rolled her neck and began to stare down the gate that was only moments away from being opened like a race horse or a racecar driver.

The clock on the tower above them hadn't even completely chimed its first tone before they were already off. They were momentarily stopped when we had to weave around the slower people: smaller kids, parents with strollers, and the people who just couldn't run very fast. It wasn't long before they dodged them and left most of their competitors in the dust.

Maine let out a half-chuckle/half-growl as he passed the now-dumbstruck, jock-looking guys who couldn't seem to comprehend how a bunch of younger kids, not to mention girls, passed them.

All the other competition beat, they were just battling each other.

Now Texas had been keeping pace in the center of the group of her new siblings. She wasn't sure where their objective was, she really hadn't been here before, so it was useless to beat them now.

Maine was in last, but he wasn't trailing. He just wasn't as fast as everyone else, but he was still much faster than all the other kids in the park he wasn't related to.

CT sort of half-heartedly jogged as if she knew she was going to lose so there was no point in wearing herself out.

Reggie jogged alongside his sister. He looked like he simply didn't care although she did think she saw his jaw harden when Tex so effortlessly passed him.

David/Wash was giving it his all, but he was just not as fast as his older siblings who already went through their growth spurts.

Tex gave North and South a wide berth as they raced neck and neck, totally focused, totally serious as if this race determined the paths of their future destinies, but she passed them easily too.

York and Caroline were tied, but it didn't seem that either one was going to try to pass the other. They just kept up pace with the other. The challenge was not to be the one that fell behind.

Tex didn't encroach on their lead until she saw what was obviously their goal. A huge coaster that was heads and tails higher than anything else in the park. Several loops and stomach-lurching drops. Even a part that went backwards. It looked freaking awesome!

With the objective in sight, she made her move. She didn't even look at Caroline or York, but simply pumped her arms and moved her legs faster than them so she passed them. She could feel the look of total resentment on Caroline's face boring holes into the back of her neck, but, hey, if she was faster, she was going to win. There was no reason she shouldn't win if she was the best. It wasn't anything personal. It just wouldn't make sense not to.

Leaping over the winding railings that would later carve out the line for the ride and flying up the stairs, Tex made it first. She stopped only when she slammed herself into the first car of the coaster and pulled the shoulder guards around her with a satisfying click.

She looked behind her to see Caroline stumbling on. Her face was beating red, and her eyes would have fired lasers at them if they could. Moving with what composure she could, she took the seat in the car behind Tex.

York rushed onto the platform a few seconds later. His eyebrows were knitted together as he obviously wondered why Caroline had abandoned his running partner. The rest of the siblings appeared within minutes, but they could all sense the tension between their two oldest siblings.

The rest of the day followed a similar fashion. There wasn't any sprinting to the rides any more, but, suddenly, everything became a competition. A competition Tex always won.

Nothing changed when they went to the waterpark. Although, when they went to change into their swim suits, the guys were, naturally, done first. And York, naturally, drew the most attention. Orbiting around him like the sun were girls, some too old and some too young, constantly trying to strike up conversation or steal a look from him as they paraded around in their bikinis and grabbed onto his tanned arms begging him to join their group. He was use to this. He knew full well he was a looker. But he didn't intend to come off as a tool. He was polite to the girls and tried to explain that all he did was work out every once in a while, but he refused to leave the group he came with. Although he did flex for them just once to appease them.

Some moved on to North who was paler but had just as finely sculpted abs, but he was able to more easily fend the sea of raging hormones off as he explained he already had a girlfriend. (It was true. Although he was only in eighth grade, he had been dating this girl he went to school with for three years consistently. They got along famously. And he'd always been a gentleman to her although his brothers and sisters would say it was that he was whipped by the little brunette, but, when she came over, they were so cute together that they refrained from that accusation until she left again.)

Wash was just too awkward and just too shy to keep any of the girls' attention if any his age came around. It was alright though. He was very focused on school, and, whether it was trying to fill the shoes of the other Churches that passed through the school system ahead of him, or competing on the school's sports teams, he claimed he didn't have time for girls. Whether or not that was just something he told himself or if it was true, even he was unsure.

However, it was a total of twenty seconds before Reggie galavanted off with a few of the ladies under his arms. York barely had time to remind him of what time they were leaving before he was already out of sight. The girls simply swooned at his accented voice which seemed to mask over his lack of intelligence, but, hey, he found something that worked and used it to his advantage.

Maine was just far too young to be truly interested in girls yet, and all the ones that were his age hovered around their parents still. He knew from watching his brothers that it just wasn't smart to make a move.

When the Church girls emerged from the changing rooms, the surrounding girls were either already all over the Church brothers, or slapping their boyfriends' for staring. Either way, the Churches were the stars of the park.

CT was in a brown tankini -one of the more modest suits there. Her angst aura was like a forefield that repelled all the boys. Besides, she was too young for them anyway.

South seemed to be reenacting a swimsuit commercial as she had three offers from boys to help her apply sunscreen before she even opened her sunscreen bottle. North watched them like a hawk though. If any of them tried to help her with certain places he was going to personally see to it that they were going to experience how hard it was to apply sunscreen without any arms.

Caroline's firey red hair and teal one piece with holes that ran up the sides was like a beacon to all available beings with a Y chromosome. Although, with her perfect GPA and good head on her shoulders, she determined she was too good for any of the boys prowling around a water park.

Tex wore a bikini that had the American flag on it. She was mostly uninterested in the boys that came up to her. She entertained them with a short conversation then sent them packing with a sarcastic retort. One boy in cobalt blue swim shorts and dark, spiky hair seemed to be incredibly persistent. They got into what seemed like a fight, but she actually decided to hang with him and his posse of a blonde boy in darker blue shorts and another in an aqua suit (the one Caroline practically slapped away from her.)

Caroline was fine her leaving off with three complete strangers. She actually felt some relief. Finally, she was gone along with Reggie so she was left with only the ones that didn't annoy her constantly. This was a pleasant change of events for her.

**This is the second part of the "AODWLC" saga. Tex has finally arrived! There's even an appearance from the Blue Team! What next?**  
><strong>Thank you so much to my reviewers for the support of this story: <strong>**KxNovax77 and Greader for reviewing my last chapter! I hope I did not disappoint! There shall be more teenaged-ness and Director-ness in later chapters. Just gotta set this time period up a little first. **

**Looking forward to it!**


	6. Ages 11 to 17: Part 2

**I do not own Red vs Blue. RvB is owned by Rooster Teeth.**

**Thank you to: Elenor GreanLeEf, KxNovax77, and Guest for reviewing my last chapter! And another thank you to DawnStars1247, and ShadowNic94 for faving! You guys are the best! *Throws confetti and does a happy dance***

"North! Why isn't there any food! Go to the store!" South yelled, as she slammed the fridge door shut and stomped off angrily to where her twin was sitting in the living room doing homework.

Her brother was rubbing his head and twirling his pencil as it was practically impossible to focus on the text he was studying with the racket. Heaven forbid he ever get peace and quiet for more than thirty seconds.

"Kinda in the middle of something!" He called back, rereading the paragraph over again.

"Well, I'm kinda in the middle of needing food right now! There's nothing in the refrigerator!"

"There's plenty of food, South. It's just all left-overs."

"Yeah. That's been in there for weeks!"

"It's perfectly fine! Just heat it up in the microwave!"

"Aren't you supposed to make us food! Isn't that _your job!"_

"You can deal with one night of left overs!"

"Yeah! _One_ night! But this is the _fourth_ night in a row!"

"I'm not going to let all that food go to waste!"

"How come you get away with not doing your job, but I have to take care of the stupid, freaking garden EVERY DAY!"

"I'm trying to do my other job right now_, being a student_, and that's hard to do when I keep being interrupted by your INCESSANT COMPLAINING!"

"I wouldn't NEED to COMPLAIN if you would just get off your lazy butt and do what you're SUPPOSED TO!"

"IF YOU TWO DON'T SHUT UP, I'M GOING TO COME DOWN THERE AND BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF BOTH YOU! I'M TRYING TO LISTEN TO MUSIC!" Tex screamed from upstairs. Her music was already blaringly loud.

"MY DEAR, TEX! THAT ISN'T HELPING!" Reggie yelled from the boys' room.

"QUIT ENCOURAGING!" Caroline shouted from downstairs.

"YOU'RE ALL MORONS!" South flared.

"_SHUT UP!"_

York sighed as it was just another day in the Church house. He didn't know how much longer he could stand it. He sometimes wished that everyone was as quiet as Maine.

He couldn't bear this house much longer. It was York's first reaction to just walk away from it. Remove himself from the situation. Go somewhere where he could get a clear head as well as some peace and quiet.

He climbed down from his bunk bed and walked over to David's futon that was his bed. David was trying to take a nap, his cat curled up on his chest, but he was just staring up at the ceiling with pinched eyebrows clearly wishing for silence.

"Hey, you wanna go for a drive?"

David drug his eyes over to his brunette brother, tired and frustrated.

"Yeah." He said as he gently scooped up the ball of fluff and placed it down on the futon trying not to wake it. Even so, the cat perked up and started mewing. Giving the cat one last pet on the head, David finally followed York downstairs and out the front door.

The younger Church really liked these escape drives around town. They gave him some sort of bonding time with his brother, and it gave him time to process his thoughts and calm his mind. Nothing but the calm, monotonous sound of the road. He would even sometime catch himself asleep if it was an especially stressing day either at school or at home, most of the time both.

For the older Church, this was how he cooled off. He knew himself all to well that if he didn't remove himself from the chaos, he would explode. He liked company though, and it wasn't exactly pulling anyone's leg to get them to get out of the house for a half hour or so. He could vent to North, get advice from Caroline, and David would just listen. Although it was much harder to convince North to come after the…incident with his eye. York tried to convince him that he would just be more careful, but North was convinced it was too dangerous. David was the same way, but thankfully he was just so gullible that York could convince the poor kid of anything.

"Do you think we should tell Caroline?"

"Nah. We'll be back soon." York said, as he tossed the key in the air that then landed in David's hands.  
>"Huh?" The blonde looked at his older brother curiously.<p>

"It's about time you learned to drive."

As York hopped in the passenger seat, the younger sibling stood outside the driver's door and looked hesitantly into the cab of the beat-up truck.

"You know I'm thirteen, right?"

York was only sixteen himself, but he shrugged it off.

"Well, _someone's_ gotta teach you before I'm eighteen. Do you think Reggie's gonna teach you then? No. Besides, I can go get a phone book for you to sit on if you need a boost."

David had heard all about York's plan to get out of that house as soon as he turned eighteen. As each day went by, it seemed that his idea might be a highly favorable one.

"North can teach me…" David said softly, rubbing the key between his fingers.

"Do you think that, when South's able to drive, that she's gonna let anyone else have the car? Keep in mind that Caroline and I won't be there to knock heads anymore."

The blonde thought it over. Everything in York's plan seemed sound logic-wise. However, that still didn't cover over the fact that it was still horribly against the law. He hadn't been through driver's ed, and he would be driving with someone who wasn't an adult in the passenger's seat. If they got pulled over, Dad would _kill _them. Maybe with no exaduration.

"Come on, Wash. You don't trust me? You'll be fine."

David sighed and climbed into the truck.

"Alright. This is where the key goes. Now turn the key clockwise and hold it there until the truck turns on."

He did just so, and the engine roared to life.

"Good. Now this is the steering wheel."

He gave him a glare. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

York laughed. "You're welcome, Lieutenant Sarcasm!"

The younger brother sighed.

"Alright. Here is the gear shift. You move this lever down one notch, and it shifts into reverse, and-"

David did as his brother explained and shifted the truck into reverse. The car then began to roll down the severely slanted driveway.

"Break, David! Break!" York shouted.

The problem was, York had yet to explain which pedal was the break and which was the gas. David knew that one did one and one did the other, but he hadn't paid attention as to which was which.

In desperation, he slammed his foot down on one of the pedals. The tires screeched and the rubber burnt as the truck lurched backwards, across the street, and into the neighbor across the street's garage.

The seatbelts attempted to strangle them both as they were brought literally to a crashing halt.

York ripped the key from the ignition as both the boys sat in a few second of pure shock.

David's heart was already leaping out of his chest, and he looked to his older brother with watering eyes.

"Okay, calm down. We just need to think this through-"

"Dad is going to kill us! Omigosh we're in so much trouble! So much trouble! I-I don't even know-"

"Calm down! Wash! Get a grip!"

David made no attempt to calm his breathing. He knew worrying wasn't going to solve the problem, but, the way he saw it, there was no way of preventing what was going to happen now so he was in full right to panic as he pleased.

"What are we going to do then?"

York felt his eye. Scarred and unusable. His frown hardened. He glanced at his brother who became fearful of the angry look in his good eye. David was at that age where physical abuse wouldn't work for much longer. Mental toying was the weapon of choice against the older kids, but, whether it was adrenaline or just the fact he was tired of this, something changed in York's mind.

He decided there was nothing that man could do to him anymore. That man that dared call himself their father was evil and needed to be stopped. David, the rule follower, by-the-book, goody-two-shoes, didn't deserve the beating he was soon to get for just a simple mistake. No children did.

He'd had long, tear shedding, and scream accented conversations with all his siblings at some point. This wasn't right, and someone needed to take a stand. Just no one had volunteered to be the one to do it. York decided it was time. It was justice or bust. He was at his wit's end. His father had already taken away his innocence, his peace of mind, his mental stability, and his eye. There was nothing holding him back. He just wasn't sure he could do it on his own.

He sensed David stiffen as he looked up to see that demon of a man standing in the doorway to their hellish house.

York kicked open the door and jumped out. Slammed it shut and walked over with full confidence.

David immediately started blubbering an apology. Their dark haired father glared down at him with his handing wringing a yardstick. The boy was silenced as their father commanded with a low voice, "Get inside."

Light haired David complied with head down and shaking heads. York didn't move.

"Get. Inside. The house." He repeated as he pointed the yardstick at him to emphasize the words.

He, almost without thinking about it, swiped the measuring tool he had been fearful of all his childhood and snapped it over his knee with the most satisfying crack he'd ever heard. Then he chucked the sticks into the street. Spinning back around, shoulders back and arms out as if presenting his work in complete defiance, almost as if he were about to bow before his audience. In the silence he dared his father to do something about it before marching into the house.

Reggie looked at him inquisitively and Connie smiled wide. North and South were confused and shocked, but David and Caroline looked at him with eyes horrified. He walked past and grabbed David's shoulders and forced him upstairs and into their room.

"What just happened? What are you doing? Tell me what's going on!" He pleaded as York locked the door.

"He's not going to beat you. He's not going to hurt any of us any more. Not while I'm around."

**Sorry for the long update time. I've been working on my youtube, other fanfiction, the discovery of Hetalia/HetaOni, and college stuff. Also, I'm lazy. Anywhom, thank you for reviewing and faving my story!  
>Yeah, I did have to change the description of Wash's hair to blonde because it had to fit canon, but oh well. I'm getting used to him being blonde. Sorry if Angst!York took some people off guard. This was just my depiction of what we're going probably going to see soon with York defection from Freelancer. I'm probably wrong though because RT is just so much more awesome than me, but yeah. I don't know when I'll update so I won't make any promises that I could break. <strong>

**Looking forward to it. **


	7. Ages 11 to 17: Part 3

**I do not own Red vs Blue. RvB is owned by Rooster Teeth Productions.  
>Thank you to Freelancer Mississippi and Toaneo07 Ver2.0 for reviewing my last chapters! Thank <strong>**you for the encouragement! It's highly valued and appreciated! *explodes with happy***

"So what…so what are we gonna do?"

York was still fuming and pacing in the room that was currently their simultaneous stronghold and prison. He was now painfully aware of how tiny the room really was. Did four boys really live in here? How was that possible? How did they cope like that for so long?

"York?" David was almost afraid to ask again. He didn't want catch any of the flack from his oldest brother's anger.

"I'll figure something out." Rule number one as older sibling: never say you don't know something. It will never end well.

There was a knocking at the door, and all David wanted was to get it over with. He couldn't take this emotional turmoil! The more he delayed it, the worse the beating would get. He didn't want to end up like York.

"Don't you dare open that door." York hissed.

The blonde brother was stopped short, and his dark eyes pleaded for the world to just stop –even if it stopped with momentary, tremendous pain.

The knocking continued.

David tried to make a case, but all that came out was a pathetic squeak as his voice cracked. Stupid puberty!

"York! What are you doing!"

That voice was Caroline's.

York remained silent. He honestly didn't have a long-term plan for this. All he knew was that his life sucked, and his dad was evil.

"If you get David killed, I'll never forgive you!" She spat as she kicked the door frame and throttled the door knob.

David couldn't control himself. He ran over to the door where his mother-figure waited on the other side of the wood. She had always protected him. Even though he was a little old, all he wanted to do was for his role model to comfort him and tell him everything would be alright.

"Caroline. What should I do?" He whispered as his voice sounded strained from how tight his throat was clenched.

She hated this as much as all the rest of them did, but all she knew was that her father was going to blow a gasket if they didn't get out of there now!

"David. I know that it's probably going to be painful, but I really need you to get out here. It'll be over soon? Please, David?" She could feel her own heart race with fear, and she wasn't even the one with doom impending.

She died inside every time one of her siblings got beat, but, in this twisted situation, she was actually trying to save him from some pain.

"Get up there!" He heard his father yell from down the stairs as well as the thundering footsteps of his father's heavy shoes. Blonde David gathered what inner strength he could and unlocked the door, bracing for the worse, but the footsteps passed by the room and ended with the slamming of a door.

David was supremely perplexed. He opened the door and stepped into the hallway to see spare bedroom light was on, and he could hear the familiar cries and grunts of Maine in pain.

No!

He rushed to the door of the room and tried to open it to find it was already locked.

"Dad!" He called, but the door remained closed.

He looked for Caroline to find her crumpled against the hallway wall with her head buried in her hands crying silently yet violently.

David had never seen her in such a state. A new fear and anxiousness rose up inside as he knocked on the door of the beating room fiercely.

"Dad! I'm here! I'm right here! It's _my_ fault!"

He heard a loud crash and the sharp cry of his youngest brother.

"Maine! _Please_, Dad! _He_ didn't do anything! Why are you hurting _him_?! Hurt _me,_ Dad! _I'm _the one! Please! Let him go! _Let him go!"_

Tears jumped from his eyes as he trashed and beat on the door only to surrender as he quickly tired and dig his nails into the wood as deep as they would go, unable to see the blood that trickled down from his nails with his blurred eyes.

York stood in the hall with them too in complete shock. He didn't know what to do. He didn't consider that his dad would just beat Maine instead. He'd miscalculated. Now, two of his little brothers were paying for his rebellious spontaneity.

He just stared at the carpet and attempted to block out the screams around him.

He snapped out of it when Caroline stood up suddenly and shoved him against the wall shooting lasers deep into his good eye.

"This is why you can't leave. Don't you ever leave, York!" Her eyes suddenly softened as they welled up with tears again, and she broke down. The number one, the leader. She was at her wit's end.

"No. This is why we_ all_ have to leave."

**Yeah. Sorry about this one and it's depressing-ness. I guess I was just having some dark feels. Probably stemming from the last episode of RvB with Alpha's torture. (Came up with this in one sitting of about an hour or so.) I don't even want to _know_ what's gonna go down after we see Wash go crazy.  
>I'll probably stick with the four chapters per age-group thing so the next chapter will be of the aftermath of this horrendous extravaganza.<strong>  
><strong>Comment if you so desire.<strong>  
><strong>Looking forward to it.<strong>


	8. Ages 11 to 17: Part 4

**Okay, I first must say: I am SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR A TWO MONTHS! OMIGOSH! I apologize to all the people who have been supporting this story. I feel so terrible for not updating sooner. X( I hit a major writing block on this story, but I finally got a timeline set up for the rest of the story, and that usually helps me immensely when it comes to writing. I, honestly, was really depressed by how grim and sad this story was getting. I don't know if it was just the RvB season ending on top of the already depressing subject that is this story, but, anyway. **

**So, yeah, that awkward moment when part of your fanfiction becomes canon...**  
><strong>I was sorry I didn't see the whole Carolina being the Director and Allison's daughter thing earlier, but it makes so much sense looking back at it! (And I call myself a writer!) <strong>  
><strong>Just a reminder (because we live in a messed-up world where I have to clarify stuff like this) there are no incest pairings in this fanfiction. Even if you squint, there are none. Okay? Okay. Now that we have that understanding.<br>Enjoy.**

Carolina felt like it was_ she_ had just been beaten. Leave? Abandon everyone? How could York possibly think of leaving? Even if they all magically packed up and left, where would they go? How would they support themselves? They couldn't. It was plain and simple. They needed their father. He provided for them. He may hurt them, but he provided for them materially in ways many other parents couldn't.

They had new clothes any time they wanted. They had more than enough food for all nine of them. They went to a good school, lived in a good neighborhood, had the latest video games, theme park tickets whenever they wanted, and lived in a large house. Not to mention that whole feat was accomplished on a single-parent salary. Their father worked hard. He just…didn't know how to handle his anger.

"What's going on in there?" Tex said, as she materialized from the shadows.

"Dad's beating Maine because I didn't follow the rules! I'm so stupid for not following the rules! I should have just waited until I took Driver's Ed! Why didn't I just wait?!"

"Shut up and get out of the way! This has to stop." Tex said, as she practically threw Wash from the door.

"Hey! I'm gonna smash your skull in if you don't quit hurting him!" She yelled, giving the doorknob a good throttling.

"What are you doing! You're just making him more mad! He'll just beat him more!" Caroline flew in Tex's face.

"No. This is _wrong_, and I'm going to _stop_ it!" Tex retorted, and began to kick the door, each time the hinges protested with a loud squeaking.

"I think I can help you out, sis." York smiled, as he held up his version of a homemade lock-pick.

York fiddled around with the lock, but Dad must have heard.

"Do not even_ think_ about opening that door!" The accented voice that sent chills up their spines seemed to loose its potency while Tex was standing there determined to bring her bloody version of divine justice.

"I don't care what you say! You're not my dad! Not anymore!" York yelled, as he worked even more determined.

Caroline sailed at him and bashed the lockpick loose.

"Didn't you hear what he said?! He's going to kill Maine!" She said, as her eyes jumped in her skull as she verged on hysteria.

"Caroline, listen to yourself! You're his sister! We have to stop this!"

"No, York! If it weren't for you, he wouldn't be being beaten!"

York gaped. The color drained from his face and with it his mental presence. He shut down as his brain short circuited.

Caroline would always side with him. They might not always agree on everything, but that's different than being someone's ally. They were the oldest siblings and they relied on each other. This, the bond that Caroline was severing, was just…too radical to take in. So York decided to space out. Better a void where nothing in his world existed instead of the world that was real but too wrong to live in.

He'd come back eventually but not to the Church home. He'd leave and swear he'd never come back. York was true to his word.

Caroline didn't relent in her words. While Tex hadn't been around long, she knew enough. Her new sister just ruined something special, something precious- the tie between siblings. Something that pure –destroyed? She had to be made aware of the gravity of the situation. And, as Tex prided herself, she had an sharp vocabulary and a sharper tongue.

"_No, Caroline!_ If you'd of stood up to him at some point, this wouldn't have happened! _You're_ the older sibling! They look up to_ you_! _You're_ the one that should have taken action! Called someone and got these kids somewhere decent to live! Somewhere where they don't have to live in constant fear!" Tex seethed, as Caroline verged on a panic attack. Brought on by anger or actual panic- she didn't know.

Tex backed up a little and kicked the door down with a strength that seemed impossible. She walked right up to their father and with the same smarting foot, kicked him in the crotch.

Dr. Church doubled over, releasing his hold on Maine, the youngest Church.

"Did you just…?!" The twins arrived, probably not freshly new on the scene, but only now choosing to reveal themselves. However, they ducked back into the hallway when their father glared at them.

"Ohohoh. I'm not done yet." Tex cracked her knuckles and rolled her neck.

"Get Maine out of here. We don't want him to get any more bloodied up than he already is."

Wash ran into the guest bedroom and collapsed to his knees in front of his little brother unsure of where to grab him for fear of hurting him more. The youngest Church's white shirt was now lightish-red with blood, and his lips were busted wide open.

Maine's glazed eyes fell down to look down on his blonde brother. There was a strange fire David had never seen in his brother's eyes, and, frankly, something told Wash he should be afraid.

"Maine...?" He asked, slowly rising to his feet as well, but his brother had other plans.

He shoved his brother down and growled as he stalked out the door. Wash was already passed his mental limit. He just stayed down and hugged his knees as he tried to shut out the world. After so many years of trying to be like his oldest brother, he tried to find that void world too. The one where you didn't feel any pain- or anything at all. He knew it wouldn't last, but, maybe, if he tried hard enough, when he opened his eyes, he would wake up from this nightmare.

Caroline stopped Maine once he stepped into the hallway. She was about to usher him into the bathroom so she could get him cleaned up when she saw the murderous look in his eyes. Shocked to the point of no words. She simply stood there wondering what had possessed her little brother to produce a look of such hate.

Maine saw her and his eyebrows drove down onto his eyelids as he jumped at her. She kneeled down and opened her arms as if to receive him in a hug, but that was the last thing on Maine's mind.

He jammed his hand into her throat, and pushed her with all his might causing her to tumble down the stairs she was previously kneeling in front of.

The Churches wondered if Maine had lost the ability to speak at all after not doing so for so many years, but, now that they thought about it, Maine never needed to. It was all there behind those raging infernos that were his eyes.

Sirens wailed and everyone somehow knew that it was headed for the Church residence. They didn't ever figure out who called the cops. No one owned up to it at least. But, just like how they knew the police would soon show up at their door, they also knew their lives would never be the same again after that day.

The court case in which Dr. Church was tried for child abuse and neglect was made bloodier by the fight he put up for custody of his kids after the case would be resolved.

An effort was made to locate the mother of the poor Church children, but a suspicious lack of information made it only harder as it was made more and more evident that the mother did not wish to be found if she even was still alive.

Jermaine -Maine- was put into care and was tossed around from foster family to foster family. Most had no idea how to handle his temper tantrums and sudden outbursts of violence that stemmed from the abuse he'd been dealt in his young years. Even if they did somehow manage to keep him contained, no one could figure out how to communicate with him. They threw around the word "schizophrenia", but no one was sure. To make that diagnosis official meant spending money on him which they foster parents simply didn't have and Dr. Church refused to give up. Maine never got better.

Constance Tay –CT- ran off to live with the neighbors across the street. One of the boys was in her grade at school. They all knew she went there frequently. It was her escape place, but no one in the Church family liked them. They were in that unofficial neighbor-war where one neighbor tried to out-do the other. Whether it was if the hedges were perfectly trimmed or leaves raked off the green lawn, it was a contest. (The Church siblings would even get in on the competition and contend with the children that lived there. The Church kids would even be instructed to sabotage their opponent's Christmas lawn decorations –not that they needed much outside prompting.) CT seemed to be the only one that didn't have a problem with them. After an interview and signing of papers, the neighbors were given temporary, legal custody of CT considering she came of mostly mentally unscathed aside from an incurable paranoia she'd picked up. However, the parents adored their new temporary addition to the family and shortly resubmitted for full custody whenever the court case was actually settled.

David –Wash- was a little worse for wear. He was rather jarred from his experience and was sent to intense counseling for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that Dr. Church, surprisingly, decided to finance. (Wash later chalked it up to his "father" trying to prove to the court that he was a good father.) He remained in counseling for almost all of the duration of the court case. His cat was his only comfort.

Northrop and Sal –North and South- were never separated. They were sent through the foster care system in tandem upon recommendation by a psychologist and North's pleas. Because the twins seemed to live in a distant twin-world anyway to protect themselves from a horrible home life for so many years, they had little trouble with the foster system. A couple filed to adopt North when the case was over, but North refused unless they adopted his sister as well. The couple couldn't say no to North, and so they also added South to their request for adoption.

Reginald –Reggie- aged out of the foster system that he seemed indifferent to within the time that they still were debating the court case. Their stupid dad kept dragging it out, sparing no expense on the lawyer he chose to defend him who pulled every string in the book to lengthen the trial. Anyway, Reggie immediately entered the work force doing odd jobs of any kind. Despite what he seemed, he was actually quite smart. He had little trouble adjusting.

Yoric –York- also aged out of the foster system. He was almost adopted by a family, but, because of how messy the trial already was, their paperwork was never attended to before he was eighteen. He, also, entered the work force and, true to his plan while he was sixteen, he joined the army. He somehow never seemed to get that idea out of his head even if he didn't need to rely on it any more. He was almost not admitted because of his eye, but he convinced them otherwise. While he wasn't supposed to see any combat, he was allowed other jobs. However, York never let his eyesight slow him down. He learned how to fire a gun, and, true to his nature, became really good at it. His lock picking skills he used as a child piqued the interest of some of the higher-ups. He finally had a future.

Caroline was not well off to put it mildly. She was recommended for intense counseling, but she refused. Once she turned eighteen, she disappeared. She cut off all communication with her dysfunctional family and no one had heard from her since.

Texas –Tex- was living on her own. She was never put into care because she was eighteen, a legal adult, when the ordeal started. Assistance was offered to her, but she turned it down flat. She was having adventures and getting into trouble, but she was living life, finally, the way she wanted. Although, she never did feel like she was ever "home" anywhere, she was making the best of it. Rumor had it that she found a smart-mouth boy in cobalt blue, but no one knew for sure about that girl named Texas.

**Okay, I have to mention some wonderful, amazing, bestest people ever that have decided my story was worthy of a review/fav/alert!**  
><strong>Thank you The Happy Riolu for the fav, Ashlee Swift for the alert, and benn55555 for the fav and alert! Y'all make me blush!<strong>  
><strong>Thank you to Agent Fira for reviewing my last chapter! (Please don't shoot! I use to be a reviewer like you, but then I took an arrow to the knee!)<strong>  
><strong>Thank you to Unt0t3n for the fav as well as the wonderful review! I'm honored!<strong>  
><strong>I LOVE YOU ALL! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT! FREE COOKIES FOR ALL!<strong>

**Now, down to business:**  
><strong>I wanted to just throw in a little side that I mentioned Maine's eyes on purpose as being compare to flames as a reference to Sigma. I will have mentions of the other AI later, but I won't tell you how they appear *cough* personified *cough* as one or two become quite the big deal. <strong>  
><strong>As I said, I do have the timeline written out for all the rest of the parts in the next age group. I expect the chapters to be much longer considering I'm cramming in so much. I might break them down into smaller parts, but I can't say for sure because I haven't written them yet. XD I will tell you that it still vaguely follows the plot of RvB but in my AU. Just a reminder, it will be a timeskip to when they are older. It will be very Wash-centric considering that's who we follow around during much of OOM, Recovery 1, and season 6. I was hoping that it wouldn't be as depressing, but it looks like it will be. I guess RvB is depressing to me. I didn't think it was, but my writing tells me different, I guess. Let me know if you feel it needs some comedy relief or it's just getting too heavy. I won't take it as an insult in the slightest. <strong>

**Alright, now I know you are all probably begging for a certain update time. Here's the deal. I'm in college and finals are coming up in just a couple weeks. Now, I know this seems odd, but school is kinda more important than fanfiction so it might be a little longer than if I didn't have finals. HOWEVER, I promise you that I will have the next chapter out by Doomsday (12/21/12 for those of you who live under rocks...and still get internet somehow...). I PROMISE, OKAY! Cross my heart and hope the zombie apocalypse! **

**Please continue to review! They make me feel warm and fuzzy inside!**

**Looking forward to it.**


	9. Ages 20 to 26: Part 1

**Toaneo07 Ver2.0 -Thank you for your short but sweet review! **

**gizmo16x -I'm glad you enjoyed that chapter. To answer your question, I wanted to create a name for her in which both CT and Connie would be appropriate nicknames. The way I used the names, I had all the characters referred to using their full names when they were younger, but, when they were older and more bold, they started referring to each other using nicknames. I hope that clarifies that for you. ****  
><strong>

**glittering wolf -Thank you for the amazing compliment! I hope this chapter is still up to par with my past chapters.**

**I do not own Red vs Blue. (If I did, I would be definitely be voicing a character!) RvB belongs to RoosterTeeth.**

The funeral was unexpected. Of course York's death was the chief element in the un-expectation. He was only twenty-five. There should never be funerals for twenty-five-year-olds. However, something else David found that was unexpected were the people in attendance, or, rather, those who were absent from the somber crowd.

David seemed to be the only other Church –the only member of his immediate family- to attend the funeral. It seemed wrong that he was the closest relative at the viewing. His brother was three years older than him -with three other siblings spanning the gap between them.

Some of them he knew he wouldn't make an appearance. David, himself, hadn't seen select members of his family since…

No one knew where Texas was, but he wasn't exactly sentimental about her. It was shortly after she arrived into the family that they were separated and shipped out to foster homes.

But he still, even though it seemed a little dark, hoped that because it was a funeral, he would be reunited with his siblings again to share in mourning and catch up on their lives. He missed them.

He kept listening for North and South's silly bickering amongst the white noise conversations in the room. He even imagined he heard Reggie's fake British accent waft over from a circle of people in black as he tried out the latest (and corniest) knock knock joke on them. David took a double-take as his mind was fooling him into thinking CT was leaning up against the doorframe, brooding in the shadows of deep thought. He could picture Caroline's incredibly forced neutral expression, as he knew she would try to be the strong example for everyone. He missed them so much.

North would still call on occasion and tell Wash about how work was going and how big his son was getting. A few times North forced South to talk to David when she happened to stop by during a phone call.

_"Hey, Sal! Come over here and talk to Wash!"_

_ "Why would I want to _talk_ to that punk loser?" She said, but really that mean that she missed him._

Wash sighed as he welcomed a warm memory for a change.

He had to force himself to stop looking toward the door every time someone walked in because he could only take so much of this hope crushing.

He pulled himself up from the folding chair that he had taken refuge in in the corner of the room, and, for the millionth time, he drug his feet over to the casket.

The top was opened and the pale, upper half of his oldest brother lay exposed as dead as a log. He was dressed in his uniform. All the patches and strange medals and markers decorated the fabric that wrapped the dead man. David didn't know what they meant, but, in his civilian opinion, York didn't need any medals to prove that he was a hero. There were several other men with military cuts and fatigues in the room that could probably explain it to him, but he didn't want to make them go through that. Everyone in attendance was already broken as it was. He would ask them later.

Everyone loved York. At least, that's what everyone kept telling David. He believed them too. Who couldn't? Even in stone cold death, he could almost see a smirk dictating his lips. His wedding ring remained proudly on his ring finger even though it didn't mean anything more than its weight in sentimentality even when he was alive. His wife died in a car crash two years into their marriage. He, stubbornly loyal as York was, refused to take the ring off. When they came to get York's body after he was killed, rigor mortis had already stiffened and brittled his hands. They couldn't remove the ring unless they wanted to break his fingers. That seemed such a York-thing it wasn't even funny.

David's heart wrenched as he smartly walked away from his dead brother's casket before he started to lose himself. (He could see his old psychiatrist nodding with approval.) He was sort of forced into the position of the one that everyone came to express their griefs -being the closest family member. He couldn't cry because then everyone would start to as well.

Another person walked up to David. He was dressed in a suit and gave David a firm handshake. He expressed his sympathy as per everyone else, but he stayed when normally everyone would have left to move on to the viewing.

"Yes?" David prompted him, as the man seemed unsure of how to word what he wanted to say.

"David Church, right?"

"Yeah. I was York's brother."

"Yes, um, I was Mr. Yoric's lawyer. Seeing as he died unexpectedly and rather young, he had not created a proper Will or mention of whom he wanted to take care of his son. So it was recommended…"

"Wait as second. York had a kid?"

"Yes, with his wife before she died. Were you…not close?"

"We were close when we were young. I guess we…grew apart over the years."

The lawyer gave him a confusing looks.

"You were saying?" David turned his face to stone. A look he'd practiced over the years and years of probing by psychiatrists. He could probably lie to Mother Teresa.

"Oh. Of course. Anyway, Yoric brought Deltan, his son, to live with him on the military base. As I was saying, because he had no Will, it is up to court to decide who will be the Deltan's caretaker…"

"No offense, sir, but I'm a senior college. There's no way I can take care of a kid even if he is my…"

"I wasn't finished, David. We know that the ideal guardian for him is not a twenty-two-year-old. We were simply asking if you, being the only Church family member we can get a hold of, would take him for a week or two until the courts decide Deltan's official future."

"So…babysitting?" David forced himself to refrain from asking why they couldn't reach any of his eight siblings or…no, he didn't care if they couldn't get a hold of his dad. He'd never want that man to be around York's kid, or any other kid. Not to mention York's ghost would probably haunt him to no end.

"If you'd like to think of it that way, yes. Do you have sufficient means?"

"You mean money and stuff? Yeah. I have a campus job, but I'm off because it's my Christmas break."

"Very good. Will you take him?"

Wash sighed. He really didn't have a good alibi to say no.

"I guess." David said slowly, hoping he wasn't making a mistake. He didn't exactly have much experience dealing with children.

"Very good. He's right over there if you'd like to meet him. You can leave whenever you feel it necessary, although, I would recommend sooner rather than later. The child is…Well, who am I to say anything? I'm a lawyer, not a psychologist. Right then, I will be contacting you soon, Mr. Church."

"I'd prefer just David, sir."

"Of course. Thank you again." With another clearly experienced handshake, the man in the suit left promptly.

Concerns rose in David's mind as he walked over to the opposite side of the room, where the lawyer said his nephew would be. What was that guy alluding to? Was there something wrong with the kid?

The child was about four years old or so. He was facing away in a folding chair, staring out the window where one could see the ocean and sky meet in their contrasting blue hues. This kid, from the back of his head at least, seemed to be the one that the lawyer was referring to.

The kid saw David approach in the reflection of the window. He stood up and turned around to face him. Wash almost had to take a step back. The kid was York's without a doubt. He had the same hair color, a light brunette, with ears that he hadn't quite grown into. They reminded him of York when he was little. The only key difference was his bright green eyes that matched the dark shades of fabric he wore. It seemed like his eyelids were the only things preventing the bright green from overflowing and spilling out at his feet.  
>"Hello. How may I be of assistance?" He said, with politeness that seemed just as rehearsed as the question.<p>

David was taken a little aback at how formal the tiny kid was being but composed himself.

"What's your name?"

"I am Deltan Church, son of Corporal Yoric Church. My father was killed in combat."

"Hello, Deltan. I'm your uncle. Yoric was my brother. You're going to come stay with me for a little while until they figure out who you're going to be living with permanently."

"Are you... Wash?"

"That's me." He chuckled, choking up a bit at the fact his brother still called him by that stupid nickname. For some reason he found he actually kinda missed being called Wash.

"Then I trust you. Where do you live?"

"Not that far from here. We can leave whenever you're ready."

"I see no reason to delay."

With that, Deltan headed for the door. David was a little dumbstruck. This was the kid's dad's funeral. Surely he would want to see him buried? Although, if he wanted to leave, he wasn't going to force him.

Honestly, he felt sorry for the little guy. He knew exactly what it felt like to have the courts dictate your life, to be rolled around like dice in the palm of the government's hand.

David headed for the door himself, catching up to Deltan easily. Out in the parking lot, David led Deltan to the rundown beater that was his car only by sheer definition. He was in college. Give him a break.

He opened the door for the green-eyed boy and made sure his seatbelt was secured around him even though he was pretty confident with the beyond-his-years vibe Deltan gave off, he wouldn't have been surprised if he knew how to drive.

Closing the door and opening the driver's door, David was about to get in when he noticed someone else in the parking lot getting in his own car. He and Wash made eye contact for a brief second as David could have sworn that behind that obnoxious mustache was his brother, Reginald. The eye contact broke quickly as the other man swiftly got in his car and sped out of the lot.

"What the heck?" David said softly before pushing the thought from his head and getting in the car.

David flopped inside, but hesitated at turning the key as he thought over his next plan of action. He didn't have any toys or games for the kid to play with. His apartment was cramped, and who knew if the kid would be allergic to his cats! Frankly, he didn't know how to take care of a kid, but he did know that he would be a pretty boring uncle to hang around.

Then he got a great idea. Whipping out his cell phone, he dialed up North's number. He had a kid of his own. Sure, his kid was younger than Deltan, but at least he'd have another friend to play with. North didn't pick up, but Wash figured he wouldn't mind if he popped over. North was, like, the definition of hospitality.

"Hey, did your dad ever tell you about any of his other brothers?" He asked, as he started up the rickety bucket of rust with a cough.

"He informed me that he had several siblings. Most are younger than him. One of his sisters, my aunt, came to visit him before he was killed."

"Really? Well, did he ever mention Northrop? He and Sal were twins."

"I believe you are referring to the ones he addressed as North and South."

"Yeah. Them. We're gonna go visit North right now. He has a son, your cousin, named Thetaus. We just call him Theta. He's a little bit younger than you, but I bet you'll have fun hanging out. I'd bet your Uncle North would love to meet you too. How about it?"

"I have no objection."

"…Alrighty then."

The ride there was awkward to say the least. Deltan never spoke unless spoken to or he had a comment about David's driving. David had been told once that he was the most cautious driver ever. Of all time. But, he was on pins and needles with Deltan in the car. It wasn't just because Deltan didn't have a booster seat. The kid seemed to know more about cars than he did. When David casually mentioned that the breaks were a bit squeaky, Deltan proceeded to not only give an encyclopedia of possible causes but also estimates as to how much the combine repair totals would cost him. What did York feed this kid?!

In a painful hour, they arrived at their destination. However, the street that his brother lived on was blocked by police cars and a crowd of gawkers. David's stomach dropped when he saw the house that was the center of the attention was his brother's.

"What's going on here, officer?"

"There was a shooting and a possible kidnapping."

"W-what?! That's my brother's house!" David explained, voice shaking.

"I'm sorry, sir. We're doing all we can. If you would just…"

"Outta the way, Frank! Stop talking and get back to work!" Came the rather familiar voice of an angry female police officer, blinding red and blue flashes outlining her form in the evening light.

"South?"

"Hey, Wash. I was just on my way to my apartment. This is…kinda hard to take in. Would you…would you mind giving me a ride?"

His sister was clearly distraught. He'd never seen her like this before. She looked like she was going to melt.

"Sure, sis. I've got Deltan in the back. He's York's kid. York was killed last week in combat. I'm watching him until the courts figure out what to do with him."

"Poor kid." She said, as she climbed in the passenger's seat.

They arrived at South's apartment fifteen minutes later. Deltan had fallen asleep so David carried him inside. South dug out a spare blanket and positioned a throw pillow on the couch for David to lay the sleeping kid on while they moved into the kitchen.

They stood in silence for a few minutes. He desperately wanted to know what happened to his brother, but South looked in no condition to talk right then. David was standing stiffly against the side of her refrigerator. He didn't really know how to comfort her either. Yes, North was his brother too, but he could _never_ say that North was his twin. He couldn't imagine what was going through South's mind.

"So that's York's kid, hu? Funny. He never told any of us about him. I never even knew he got married."

"Me neither. Although, you and North were the only ones I kept in contact with. The kid seems nice enough. _Crazy_ smart. Like, _future-Einstein_ smart."

"Great for him." She deadpanned.

"Although, I don't think it's really sunk in for him though. He seems…almost _indifferent_. I don't know. Maybe because he lived on a military base, he's become, sort of, I don't know, used to it, or…"

"Just shut up, Wash."

David did just that, letting the somber cloud fester above their heads as night wrapped the outside in darkness that was nothing compared to the deeds that had been committed the past hours.

**So, if you noticed, I changed the proposed ages for this age group. I had to make them older because I wanted Delta to be at least three or four as well as have York married for two years before that. With the way I originally had it, that would have placed York at, like, seventeen when he got married. You can see the obvious flaw in my math there. I also wanted Wash to be old enough where he wasn't on his own, but he was old enough to have his own place so he didn't have to go back to the Director's house (which would have created plot issues). Anyway, so I just made everyone a few years older, and everything worked out. York still would have got married rather young, but I can picture York as the type to fall in love young.  
>Sorry if Delta is a little OOC. I wanted to keep him still obviously Delta but also keep him a kid. I figured having him being rather emotionless and smart while still falling asleep after a long car ride was a good way to balance it. (Yay for Delta being York's cute kid!)<br>I know that South and Wash are probably more OOC than Delta even, but it was hard to keep Wash stoic and cold to South over North dying when, in this AU, Wash and North are brothers too. Instead, I tried to make it so he was just not really helpful.  
><strong>

**I'm thinking about adding in a few BONUS CHAPTERS here and there that will be much lighter in mood to kind of break up the depressing/sadness that all my chapters seem to be. It'll be of the Church kids, but when they are all really young. (Like, Ages 1-6 or something.) It'll be of when an OC or possibly someone from the actual series or something comes and babysits them while the Director is out for the day. It'll be mostly all fluff and humor and cuteness. Let me know what you guys think of that idea. You can throw in your vote for who you want to be the babysitter. I can even do a different babysitter every chapter. It's totally fine if you would rather me just stick to the main storyline and keep the story uninterrupted too. Just let me know what you think! **

**Once again, thank you soooooo much for the wonderful reviews!  
>Merry Christmas!<strong>

**Looking forward to it.**


	10. Ages 20 to 26: Part 2

**I do not own Red vs Blue. RvB belongs to RoosterTeeth.**

**I know this is kind of late, but I added warnings of "violence and rather dark themes" into the description. I didn't think this story would get as dark as it has, and I apologize if any of you were taken off guard by it. I doubt it will get any darker than it already has, but I just felt the need to apologize.  
><strong>**You are all witnessing the fruits of my Christmas Break which, unfortunately, ends in a few days. I wouldn't say that I will for sure update slower, but I'm pretty sure everyone knows what school does to the fanfic writer. Just a heads up.**

**Thank you for my three new watchers! I have officially broken into the double digits of watchers now! This is my most followed and most viewed story! Thank you so much! Welcome to my crazy-ness!**

**Also, thank you to Commander-Cupcake and Commander-Caboose for faving my story! I am honored to have you on board! (By the way, awesome usernames! :D)****  
><strong>

**Toaneo07 Ver2.0 -Thank you so much! Your consistent reviewing makes me happy!  
>Guest -This is a wonderful idea! I like it! I had the idea of the Councilor babysitting, but I hadn't thought at all about Flowers! I might just do that!<br>glittering wolf -I hope this chapter clears up any questions you may still have. Thank you so much for the review! Please let me know if I need to clarify anything after this chapter too. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing. :)**

David wished he wasn't so awkward with situations like this. Well, probably not this_ exact_ situation, but rather situations that required him to comfort someone. He built up a wall around his emotions ever since counseling. It came in handy often. Whenever he could feel that tightening of sadness in his chest or pulsing of anger in his head, he would quickly set up his wall that would prevent him from losing control of himself. He almost laughed dryly at how he made himself seem like the Hulk or something. However helpful his emotions-wall was, it made him for a terrible empathizer.

He turned to look at his weary sister. She made herself coffee but hadn't touched it. It lay on the table, drained of steam a long time ago. Her kitchen was small just like the rest of her apartment, but it seemed like she didn't mind. Right now she was staring and occasionally typing on a glowing laptop that made her hair shine much more platinum than it was.

"South, talk to me."

She continued to glare down at the screen in her comatose state.

"Is North okay? What about Theta? Are you helping with the case?"

"I'm not a crime scene investigator." Came her low reply.

"Then why were you even there?"

"I was a witness! I was_ there _when it happened, Wash!"

Her grey eyes bore holes through his brown.

He felt himself shrink a little.

"I was just visiting him like I do every once in a while. I was there when he was killed."

"What! They told me it was just a shooting! They didn't –are you sure he was _killed_?"

David knew somewhere in the cold, logical side of his brain that he must have been killed. Why else would South have wanted to go to her apartment instead of going to the hospital? Still, he tried to think hopefully.

"I'm a not a crime scene investigator, but I_ am_ a police officer. I saw where he was hit. He's definitely dead."

"Then what about Theta?"

"He must have been taken by the shooter. They couldn't find him, and I didn't see anything before the person knocked me out with the butt of their gun. I have this freaking killer headache now."

She rubbed circles on the back of her head.

David sat in shock.

"Why would someone do that? What would anyone have against North! He's the nicest person I know! And why would someone kidnap his kid! That's sick! I just…agh!"

He found himself going into emergency lockdown mode as he felt anger bubble up. Too much emotion caused the walls to come screaming up trying to render himself back to calm apathy. He just couldn't quite manage apathy though. Patient silence was the best he could to do.

"I'm not sure, but…" South trailed off as she finally took a heavy chug of her neglected coffee, "I'm gonna pull a few strings so I can keep up with the case." She gestured to the computer.

David walked around behind her so he could see the glowing screen for himself. Across it scrawled pictures and info on possible suspects and a bunch of other law enforcement jargon that David didn't understand.

"Wait! Scroll back up!"

South flinched at her brother's sudden outburst, but did as he instructed.

"Is that who I think it is?"

"Jermaine Church. Aged 20." She read slowly.

"Maine has a _criminal record_?!"

David couldn't believe that he was staring at a screen that showed not only a picture of his youngest brother, but also details of his numerous crimes.

"Apparently baby brother was charged with attempted murder of Caroline Church-Jones, aged 26, in her home and kidnapping her twin children, aged 1, just last month. He's still at large and the infants are still missing…."

Both sat in stunned silence. It didn't take a genius to connect the similarities between their older sister and North's cases.

"Why did he try to murder Caroline? Why is he doing this?!" David held his head to assist in containing himself.

South just sat with furrowed eyebrows, frozen in silence. He didn't blame her for her reaction. It's hard to swallow the news that your older brother and your twin is dead, your sister was almost killed, three of your nephews were kidnapped with one orphaned, and that your youngest brother is a psychopath.

Now David didn't _want_ to focus on the morbid, but he just had to figure this out.

"You know about criminal psychology, right? Why was he trying to _kill off_ our siblings, but _kidnapping_ their children? I mean, I'm glad that there's a possibility that at least the kids are not dead, but that scares me too. It means Maine might have a plan in mind besides just going on a killing spree. Like, why did he leave you alive? That's also something I'd like to know. And, should we warn the rest of our siblings about it?"

"I don't know, Wash."

"Why didn't he just shoot you…"

"I don't know why! _He's_ the complete sociopath, not me!"

"Well, who do you think his next targets will be? He doesn't seem to be going in an order. Although, I don't even know how we would warn them. I haven't seen Reggie, CT, or Tex in years."

"Well, let's just see then." The typed in a few passwords before she entered their siblings' names into the search.

"CT died in a car accident four years ago. Hm. Didn't know that. Guess I missed the funeral." She deadpanned while entering the next name in the search.

"Reggie has apparently become what seems to be a bounty hunter of sorts. Like a contract hitman. He's been under watch, but they've been unable to prove that he's done anything illegal yet. Another proud member to the Church name. It says he hasn't registered any dependents so that means he only has to worry about himself. Although, that seems to be his general idea. We probably don't have much to be concerned about. He is an assassin."

David couldn't believe how far his siblings had fallen and what had become of them. He felt awful that he didn't even know his own sister had died. He made a note as to where she was buried so he could go pay his final respects however late he may have been in giving them.

"I can't seem to find much on Tex. Lots of spotty records of her. All over the country. No records that she got hitched or had any kids. Since I'm having trouble finding her considering the resources I have at my disposal, I can't imagine Maine would have any less difficult of a time with tracking her down as well. She's probably in the clear too."

"Well, that's a relief. At least they don't have kids that could be mixed up in this. It seems the only people that had kids he could kidnap were Caroline, North, and -oh no! York!"

David rushed back into the living room. To his relief, Deltan was still sleeping soundly. South walked in almost laughing.

"You act like you expect him to come barging through that door any moment now like a movie or something."

"Well, we know there's a strong possibility that a crazy psycho is gonna try to kidnap him! I'm not gonna take any chances! We need to get him to a police station or something! You have weapons here, right?"

"Wash, calm down. I have a gun on me at all times." She pointed to the black holster on her hip next to her badge, "Besides, there's no way he could possibly know where the kid is. The last record of Deltan is probably his birth certificate. He's only, what, three? And York's death happened so recently; it'd be practically impossible for Maine to know anything otherwise. And even so, who says that our theory's right? We have no proof. You're overreacting."

David gave her a sharp glare with intensity that surprised her. Naïve Wash grew up, hu? Well, she could work with that.

"Alright. What do you propose we do then?" She crossed her arms and cocked her eyebrow.

David was opened his mouth to speak when they heard a loud bang on the door. Both of them jumped and Deltan jolted awake, his green eyes wide to figure out what was going on.

Another crash on the door denied any hope of this being someone just knocking loudly. Someone was clearly trying to break in.

Worst fears coming true, David swooped the kid up and turned to South, whispering quickly, "Hurry! Out the fire escape!"

David, honestly, didn't know if there was a fire escape or not, but he figured that that was their best option. Thankfully, South nodded and led them to the back of the apartment. She pried the window open and took Deltan into her arms to let her brother slip out onto the metal staircase first.

"Okay, pass me Deltan then you can…"

He never got to finish the sentence as South slammed the window shut and locked it leaving him standing outside on the metal walkway with a horribly confused look.

"Stop this! What are you doing!" Deltan tried to wriggle out of his aunt's grasp, his furrowed brows reflecting how perplexed he was.

"Shut up, kid. I'm just stacking the deck in our favor."

She walked toward the door that was now completely off its hinges and lying in a pile of splinters in the hallway.

In front of her stood a tall, muscular figure. His face was covered by a black ski mask, but nothing could dampen his eyes that blazed with hate. Tucking Deltan under her arm like a football, she ripped her handgun from its holster on her side and aimed it straight at the intruder's head.

"Alright. You have a choice. I trapped Wash on the fire escape ledge outside. The gate was broken off years ago so, unless he feels like jumping from twenty feet, he's not going anywhere. You can go give him a proper greeting like you did Caroline and North, and find us a different day. Or, you can try to go for us now and end up with a bullet in your head. Your choice." South hissed, as Deltan looked at the attacker, more confused than scared.

The intruder didn't speak, but that didn't confirm nor deny his true identity. He growled like a cornered lion as he realized how he honestly did bring a knife to a gun fight. Although it had to be the biggest butcher's knife in existence, it was still slower than a bullet. His gun was back in his truck.

The stalemate continued until the man nodded slowly.  
>"Wise choice. Now let us pass, and we'll leave you to your business."<p>

He gritted his teeth but backed against the wall. She kept the barrel of the gun aimed straight at his head the entire time, but there was no conflict as South and Deltan managed to escape, leaving the psychopath in the apartment.

David couldn't believe his eyes as he watched everything unfold. Granted, he couldn't hear the conversation from behind glass, but he wasn't born yesterday. His own sister had just stabbed him in the back. She gave him up to be killed so she could escape. What a loving family they were a part of.

He couldn't help but bristle with fear as a man in a mask walked slowly toward the window. He brandished a knife that would rival an anime weapon because of how absurdly big it was, but David didn't want to go down with fear in his eyes. He brought up those security walls again and hardened his expression. He was about to be a victim of fratricide of which he could debate had _two_ guilty siblings.

The man smiled sickly as he opened the window with a click.

David was taken aback at how intimidating his brother looked now. How Maine ever got genes that made him so much bigger than him, David didn't know. He had to be at least 6'7'', probably nearer to 6'8''.

Maine somehow made it out the window and onto the same ledge David was cornered on. They stood there for a few moments, just staring at each other, until the older sibling couldn't take it any longer.

"Why are you doing this! Why did you try to kill Caroline! Why did you kill North! Why did you kidnap their children! _Maine!_ What happened to you?!"

The attacker traded his weapon to his empty off hand as he took two long strides over to his older brother and rammed his bare fist into David's face. Needless to say, David was glad he fell unconscious.

**Okay, explanation time. Yays~**

**This is where I get into the awkward debate on the timeline of RvB. The miniseries "Out of Mind" (the one where York dies) is kind of ambiguous as to when it takes place exactly. We know it takes place when Wyoming is still alive and before Tex returns to Blood Gulch, but, with how it is immediately followed by the next miniseries, "Recovery One" (the one where Wash finds York dead and is shot by South in the back), it is unclear how long York has been on the run. Also, it is unclear how long of a time gap exists between "Recovery One" and "Reconstruction" (season 6). It has to be long enough that Wash can fully recover from his back injuries, but also short enough that the Meta still hadn't caught South and Delta yet. So I just had to take some chances and hope the timeline still worked out without stretching the AU too far from the canon storyline. It is a delicate line to walk, my friend. **

**I know it said that Reggie (Wyoming) had not registered any dependents (filing with the government that you have a child in your household that is _dependent_ on you for support, basically under 18, so you can get tax deductions or etc.), yet, at this point, he should still have Gamma. And, if I'm going to be consistent with the AI being the children of the Freelancers, that means Gamma would be Wyoming's son. However, because Gamma is practically insignificant post-Blood Gulch, I just decided that Wyoming**** has Gamma but hasn't registered Gamma because his illegal profession would put the kid in danger. So, yeah. **

**I, also, don't think that Epsilon will appear at all in this. Don't get me wrong! I am a huge Epsilon fan (not of his personality but of what he represents being memory and how he directly/indirectly broke Wash into the scarred character we see in season 6,7, and 8.), but, it wouldn't work out for Wash to have Epsilon as his son when I sort of substituted Epsilon's insanity for Wash's childhood abuse. And, since there are no Reds and Blues and no Alpha in this AU, there's no point in adding in Epsilon seeing as I plan to end it at about the end of season 6 if it were canon. And besides, Wash has his cats. XD**

**I know that some parts of this wasn't very much like the canon, but, South, obviously couldn't bargain with the Meta by threatening to blow Wash up. First off, come on! This is more "realistic" so she's not just gonna have grenades/explosives on her person even if she is a police officer. (Not to mention that I have doubts as to if she actually did set charges on Wash's armor in the canon at all, but you can PM me about that if you want to hear more about those theories.) And she can't actually shoot Wash in the back because I don't have any "equipment" in this AU so he wouldn't have a healing unit that would miraculously prevent him from dying nor would he have anything that the Meta would want to salvage off of him. So, I made it so that this version of the Meta is just killing off everyone and kidnapping the kids. Yay for senseless violence. **

**So, when I officially go insane and they read my fanfictions they're gonna be like, "Welp, we should have known this was coming. Look at how freaky and dark this fanfiction is!" I say again that I didn't intend this to be this depressing although the RvB story isn't exactly sugar and rainbows either.  
><strong>**I am planning on adding my first episode of the "Babysitting Ages" miniseries next chapter. It'll either be the Councilor or Flowers as the first babysitter as suggested. This will be my attempt at adding the fluff and happy, prancing unicorns of hope that I have sorely needing to break up the soul-sucking chapters that is the main storyline. Feel free to suggest more characters as the babysitter. I can't guarantee that I'll get to them all considering how long it takes me to do the normal chapters (and, honestly, that's the main reason you are reading this, right?), but, if I like the idea enough and can't get it out of my head, a chapter will surely come of it. :)  
><strong>

**Thank you once again for your patience and continued support! You guys are so awesome! Review if you so desire!**

**Happy New Year! (Guess what my New Year's resolution is? XD)  
>Looking forward to it!<strong>


	11. Ages 20 to 26: Part 3

**Gomenasai! !Lo siento! I'm sorry! I feel terrible that I have left you hanging for so long! My excuse is that I did indeed try to write a fluffy babysitting chapter like I said, but it just ended up sounding crack-ish and just wasn't up to the standard. So I have, instead, the next regular chapter for you. I apologize for how short it is, but I just couldn't keep you any longer. I am planning to make it up to you by adding in a filler chapter later on that was requested on here as well as on DA of the children!AI interacting/living with their parent!freelancers. It will be more happy and cute and I hope a good substitute for the babysitting chapter.  
><strong>

**glittering wolf -Thank you so much! I'm glad you've taken such an interest! *squeals with happy***

**Iron-Mantis -Yup. I can't decide that I like when I'm kinda right but didn't know it or not. XD**

**Iyrsiiea -I am so honored by your compliments! I'm so glad you chose to read my story! Thank you! Thank you! We will be seeing the Sigma and the other AI in the chapter after this one. Sorry to keep you in suspense. XD**

**missmoney101 -I'm so glad that you like this story so far! I hope I will not disappoint! I will do something about Omega and Tex. I hope you continue to read! Thank you for the fav as well!**

**Big thankies to Ed130, LunarFlare1213, and missmoney101 for the faves! I give you all an amazing impromptu saxophone solo tribute!**

**Anyway, I do not own Red vs Blue. RvB belongs to Rooster Teeth.**

Four footsteps, two sets, smacked against the concrete of the sidewalk. South was practically dragging the kid. He couldn't keep up with her pace, and he hadn't slept. South hadn't slept either, but did he see her complain?

The street lights illuminated islands of yellow around their bases under which the woman pulled the boy. She didn't know how much time she had. She didn't know how long it would take for Maine to kill Wash –how much time she had to escape. However, all she knew was she had to get away faster, faster, _faster_! This kid wasn't helping any.

"Pick up your feet! Come on! Do you want to end up like your father?" she hissed.

"No. I do not wish to end up like your twin either," he said with hardly any emotion.

South expected that she'd scare the kid or at least make him mad, and he'd run faster. Instead, he turned right around with an attack on her. It made her grind her teeth harshly.

"He was different."

She finally hauled him to the outskirts of the small town and into the fields. Practically disjointing him with a harsh jerk, she lugged him in between a row of corn that grew to above their heads. She pushed him in front of her and Delta followed the path the lines of corn provided.

"Why was he different?"

"None of your business, _brat_! Now shut up and keep moving!"

She pushed whatever the corn stalk leaves were called out of her face as they walked blind into the darkness of the field. It wasn't her most brilliant plan ever, but no one would ever think to look for their tracks through here. Soon she could get to somewhere that would be an adequate place to lie low.

"Did you love him?"

"Who?"

"Your twin brother. Did you love him?"

"Of course. I just love myself more," she said offhandedly.

The kid didn't seem shocked by the statement. He kept up his levelheadedness as if the words were simply facts that were as neutral as saying she preferred the color blue to red.

"Did you leave him like you left Wash?"

"I didn't trap him if that's what you mean. I tried my best to help protect North and Theta, but Maine was stronger than us. I gave up only when it was a lost cause. It was either going to be him or me that would get out alive. He didn't choose himself, so I chose me. He got shot. I tried to get Theta while making my escape, but Maine knocked me out before I could do anything."

"So you killed him."

"I did _not_ kill him! I told you. Maine did that. I did _not_ kill my own twin."

"But you left him to die."

"I left him, but _Maine_ was the one that pulled the trigger! I did nothing but remove myself from the situation! _I _am innocent!"

"I disagree with you."

"Listen! There isn't any law against saving your own skin, kid! I did what I had to get out alive! You'd do the same when it came down to it!"

Delta's mind wasn't usually turned toward the nostalgic, but, for a moment, he could see his father. His father that gave his life to protect others. Delta remembered seeing him in the hospital. Though the doctors pleaded with him (tentatively, mind you, no one wanted to separated the father and son), but he refused to leave the bedside. He refused to leave his dying father. Even though it wasn't exactly comparing apples with apples, Delta had a firm belief in his head.

"I disagree with you."

It wasn't long. It was like he could smell them, like they were trying to cheat fate. It was predetermined by some star formation and planet alignment that they would be caught and there was no way they could get away.

Maine was attempting to break down the door to this abandoned shop they took cover in that was in the small barn on the edge of the cornfield. The wooden entryway thudded and shuttered as if it was holding back a herd of rhinos rather than a person.

"I suggest that we pile as many obstructions in front of the door as possible. Then you can take a more defensible position in the back of the barn if…"

"No."

"You have a better plan?" he asked, sounding surprised.

She shot him a look of disgust, picking the green-clad boy up roughly.

"Listen, kid. Sit down in this seat here!" she planted him on a square of hay or straw or whatever. "When he breaks in, don't struggle, and he might not hurt you."

With that she ran over to the back wall and began to kick at the back door that was stuck shut.

"You are…abandoning me?" he finally sounded like the scared child he should have been.

"It's best chance to get out of this," she finally sounded like the desperate animal she reduced herself to.

"Aunt South, this seems like a very short-term solution. If Maine is going to kill everyone he's related to, he will only find you again."

"Delta! Did you hear what I said?!"

"Yes. I am to stay here."

"Good."

Then she returned to frantically trying to kick down the door. However, it seemed Maine was far more successful in his door-bashing. Within moments, the door was demolished.

Maine barreled his way through the debris like a charging T-rex.

"Get down!" A voice shouted as a person launched through the dust.

It was Wash. He grabbed on to the back of his younger brother and attempted to wrestle him to the ground. Maine thrashed and ended up bucking the blonde brother off. However, Wash grabbed on to his arm which threw off the aim of firearm held in it. He fired rapidly and randomly. Nevertheless, he, with a good sucker punch to his face as revenge, distracted Maine enough to wrench the gun from his hand. Maine reeled in pain as Wash rolled out of his range. Quickly jumping to his feet, Wash aimed the gun at Maine in one smooth motion. He'd never held a gun before and wasn't even sure how to cock it, but Maine didn't know that. Not to mention it wasn't rocket science to figure out how to point it at someone.

Maine stood grudgingly still, the weapon holding him in place.

"Delta? Are you alright?"

"Yes. I am uninjured however Aunt South is seriously wounded. I suggest I travel with you from now on," he reported stoicly.

"Good idea."

"I, I can't walk on my own," South panted, as she held a bloodied hand against her bullet-ripped thigh and another on one that bled in her chest. It must have been from when Wash tried to wrestle the gun out of Maine's hand.

"Well, I guess you better start crawling. If you think I'm leaving you here to escape again, you've got another thing coming," the blonde spat.

"Uncle Wash, if I may, before you arrived, Aunt South attempted to let Maine kidnap me -to save herself."

"Really?" he let his scowl flicker to his bleeding sister for a moment before returning to keeping his gun pointed at Maine.

"Much like she left _you_ to escape in our previous encounter with him. And, as I have learned in our travels, Uncle North suffered a similar fate. It is highly probable that she will turn on us again soon, and, in her current physical state, she will only hamper our progress."

While North's true fate had not been revealed to him before, he found it didn't surprise him. Delta was beating a dead horse here. Clearly he had something in mind.

"What are you suggesting?"

The boy's eyes turned glazed and angry.

"…That we do not allow her to hamper our progress."

"Okay."

Digging into his pocket, Wash dug out his phone and dialed 911.

"What are you gonna do, Wash? Call th…?"

"Yes. Good suggestion."

After it started to ring, he set it on a square of hay, out of her reach. The police would come after they traced the signal. South knew that better than anyone. She would get the medical attention she needed if her wounds were survivable. When Wash took Delta and Maine to the police station, he could explain everything there. He didn't have time to talk to them now.

"Wash!"

Delta barely had time to form the word before David was smashed into the ground. A huge force slammed him into the floor with his head hitting something with a crack. He wasn't unconscious. He just was in too much pain to be able to do anything. His head spun and he couldn't stand up because he wasn't sure which way _was_ up.

After the dizziness passed a moment later, he slowly stood up. Maine was standing above him with the gun aimed at his head. Time seemed to be stopped. Only when the iconic sound of police sirens started to crescendo and Maine flinch did time resume. Maine, holding his injured nose in one hand, grabbed Delta up under his arm football-style. Before Wash could get his legs to finally work again, they were gone.

David went cold. He knew South would try to pin this on him. She would do anything to get out of this. She was not only in danger of losing her job, she could go to prison. Although he would have loved to leave it to the professionals to finish this for him so he wouldn't have to put himself in another life and death battle, he couldn't. Maine and South had to be punished, and Delta had to be rescued _now_! Who knew what would happen now that Maine finally finished his collection? He now had all his nephews. What would he do now?

Clearly killing his siblings wasn't the priority. If it was, he and South would have been killed several times over. Maine had several opportunities. Kidnapping Delta was far more important. Why? Where would he go with him? He didn't know, but he had to get out of here.

He stumbled outside, the light making his head fuzzy for a moment. He wondered about the amount of head trauma he received, but he pushed on. He couldn't let Maine get away with this. But, where would he start to look?

Suddenly, the destination came to him. It seemed to fit the psychotic theme his younger brother was pulling. He didn't know why, but he just knew where his brother was heading. He was going to where the scene of the crime originated. Not Maine's crimes. The first crimes. Their father's crimes. He was heading back to their old house. So that's where David went.

**I know what you're thinking. "Why didn't Wash kill South? That was what happened in the canon!" My reasoning behind it is that because I'm trying to make this a more realistic AU instead of just a re-write of the actual thing. In this AU, Wash/David is not in the military. **He has never even held a gun before.**(He'd be in the family business so he's probably studying media and filmmaking or something in college.) Psychologically, it is extremely hard (for a sane person, at least) to actually shoot someone. And, in this, South isn't just a teammate. South is Wash's sister. Even at this point, no matter how mad he was at her, he just can't shoot her. However, he's not going to help her. He wants her to pay for what she did, but he doesn't want her dead. Regardless, we won't be hearing from her again in this story. **

**Next, this scene is sort of a combo of events. Because there is no Caboose to shoot South, I had to have Maine do it.  
>Because there is no equipment, there's no way Maine could stop time and no way a malfunction in his equipment could send him to retreat to power up. That is why I tried to describe time slowing down metaphorically, Wash punching Maine in the nose was the injury, and the police coming was the reason Maine had to run and leave Wash and South alive.<br>There's also no Caboose to take Delta so no reason for me to write that scene. I just had Maine take Delta at the end of the scene.  
>Also, without an Alpha, there won't be any of that. It's not that I don't like the Alpha. I think the Church-is-Alpha revelation is probably my favorite scene in all of RvB, but there's just no way I could write him in. I'm trying to deal exclusively with the Freelancers.<br>****Basically, I had to get kinda creative, but I hope it was still acceptable and enjoyable for you. Let me know what you think!**

**I would like to entitle this next bit "South Psychology": I hope that you liked the beginning part with Delta and South talking. I understand why we weren't specifically shown that part in the series, but I always thought about what was South's view/take on what she did and what was happening. I decided that she, since it was mentioned that she only put North in a position to be killed yet seemed genuinely sad over his death, she convinced herself that she was innocent because she wasn't the one that pulled the trigger that killed him.  
>I think that, after writing this, I have a deeper understanding for South's character and her growth. In season 910, she mostly just talk. Like when she had that stare down with Tex in season 10 about the Tex's nameplate. She knew she couldn't win against Tex, so she let Tex win. She didn't want to get on her bad side even if she did have that whole rant against her only moments before. She also would do anything Carolina asked her to because she knew her survival and position on the board depended on following orders. Even if she hated Carolina's guts, she wouldn't have gone against her orders. However, when her safety was jeopardized by her not receiving an AI, she didn't know what to do. So focused on self-preservation, she began to do anything in her power to ensure she got an AI.  
><strong>**I have a headcanon that she tried to get North killed so she could steal Theta off him, but Maine, obviously, wanted Theta more. Delta was her next option so she tried to steal Delta. The whole time, she seemed more or less oblivious to the state of Project Freelancer and its Freelancers and was rather mono-focused on getting the AI that would protect her.  
>That's why both North and South have bubble shields. They were both protectors. North was a protector of others while South was a protecter of herself. Those were my profound thoughts for the chapter. XD<strong>

**Anyway, thank you for reviewing and following and alerting! I can't believe this story has become this popular! I am so blessed!  
>Keep a look out for my next chapter~! Hopefully, it will be longer. <strong>

**Looking forward to it!**


	12. Bonus Ages: AI Children

**So this is my fluff chapter I promised you guys a while back. I'm much more happy with this one.  
>Warning: contains so much fluff that people's heads might explode from the cuteness. <strong>

**Anyways...**  
><strong>glittering wolf -Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed reading it! And, oh yes, Delta is so cute!<strong>

**Thank you to ari-kid, and li43101 for faving! You are awesome!**

**And a big thanks to everyone who added this to their alerts. Thank you so much!**

**I can't believe how popular this story has become! Thank you! Thank you! You are all awesome!**

**I do not own RvB. RvB belongs to Rooster Teeth.**

Texas swung the door open to the apartment and slammed it shut without care to the people living in the rooms next door. They were morons anyway. She, with one final heave, threw her workout bag in the living room to collapse ungracefully on to the couch. She had a crappy day at work that could only be de-stressed by a longer time spent at the gym. However, she should have known that she would get all the workout she needed dealing with her little angel. She wiped the hair off the back of her sweaty neck and hissed as her spine tried to uncoil as she lay there. She was gonna be sore tomorrow.

Groaning, she switched to resting on her side but found herself staring at the wall that had wallpaper falling off it like a peeling banana.

"What?" She did not have time for this! The landlord was going to kill her. Of course she wouldn't take any flack from that creepy old man, but he could kick her out of the apartment…again.

She hoisted herself up and went over to the wall to investigate. The cruddy wallpaper wasn't just coming unglued. It was ripped off in strips. There was only one way it could have happened.

"What happened to the WALL?!" she shouted, moving into the bedroom to find the heathen.

He was there. Playing with his "toys". It looked like to the outsider that Tex was a horrible mother and wouldn't buy her child toys. That was not the case. Her kid just happened to take lessons from Sid from _Toy Story_.

The toys were mutilated and often missing limbs or parts that would show up from time to time in obscure places like the garbage disposal in the sink or the bottom of the jug of milk in their fridge.

The boy looked up with eyes that could have glowed and smiled with teeth she debated were fanged. He smashed his little hands together and wrung them as he cackled unabashedly.

"Yes, Mother! I obliterated it! It was_ I_!"

"I knew it was you! Who else could it have been? What is _wrong_ with you?!"

"I don't know. But whatever it is compelled me to order things that the telemarketer fool was selling on the phone! I am so disobedient! I am pure_ evil_! Bwahahah!"

Tex gripped her skull with clenched hands. Yes, her five-year-old baby boy knew vocabulary that advanced and knew how to laugh evilly. She wondered if she could write a book entitled, "How to Know When It's Time to Exorcise Your Child."

She was about to locate the nearest source of holy water when she smelled smoke. Her eyes shot wide as she ran into the kitchen. She found a pot of boiling water on the stove with _something_ in it. She quickly shut the burner off and poured the contents into the sink. The water sloshed out and steam erupted from it, but the_ thing_ remained in the pot.

O'Malley scampered into the kitchen and stood on his tiptoes to see what his mom was doing. He saw and smiled wide.

"Darling," she began with mock cooing, "_What is this_!"

"It was my experiment!"

"It vaguely looks like your toy you got in your Happy Meal the other day."

"I want to take over McDonalds, Mom! How better by torturing one of the fool's minions? Ronald McFOOL would have been at my mercy!"

"You are disturbed. And your toy is officially ruined now."

She didn't know if she could ever get the melted toy off the bottom of the pan now. Great. Something she definitely didn't need to spend money on. It seemed her child's one goal in life was to fill her with rage.

O'Malley smirked with triumph.

"…_Perfect_!"

Carolina woke with a start. She found herself clutching her husband's pillow that he wasn't using seeing as he was on a business trip –again. It figured she would have fallen in love with a workaholic seeing as that was exactly what she was herself. She rolled over and shut her eyes when she was jolted by a far off sound. It was probably what woke her originally. It was the cry of one of her babies.

Groaning, she sat up and rubbed the sleep sand from the corners of her eyes and finished by dragging her hand down her face. She knew having children would mean less sleep, but she was Caroline and she could handle anything. Fate said, "Challenge: Accepted!" and she gave birth to twins. She guessed she should have figured that would happen. Considering North and South, twins apparently ran in the family.

She could only attempt to get to the crying child before he woke his brother up too, but luck was simply not on her side. No sooner had she left the bed that she heard a second infant's scream clashing with the first. No matter. She was already up anyway.

The twins' nursery was painted blue and yellow: the two colors she and her husband decided to color-code everything for them. Whatever was Dikota's was blue, and whatever was Etward's was yellow. And, for the record, the unusual names were her husband's idea. Something about family names or whatever. She called them Iota and Eta for short. After all, she couldn't very well call them Dik and Et. That and Iota and Eta seemed much more twin-esque.

She walked over to their crib. They were still small enough to share a crib, and they seemed to like it that way. They were very much more twin-ly than she remembered North and South being. Of course, she was too young to remember how her siblings acted when they were _this_ young, but she couldn't have imagined it being as pleasant as her twin babies together. Call it her motherly intuition, but she knew these twins would be a little more fond of each other than their aunt and uncle.

She gave Eta his yellow pacifier to distract him while she picked up Iota. Iota, in his blue nighty, immediately started to calm. His momma was nearby. That meant all would be well.

She rocked him back and forth in her arms and he grasped at her shirt. Tears still ran down his face so she wiped them away with her finger. Iota released his mother's shirt and grabbed at the finger. She let him hold it as her heart fluttered. It doesn't matter who you are, if a baby grabs your finger, you feel like the most loved person in the world.

He finally let out a few more hiccups before he stopped crying altogether, absolutely mesmerized by the finger he was holding on to. She rocked him a few more times than sat him on the table to be changed. A minute or two later, when she was finished, she placed him back in the crib and exchanged him for Eta.

Eta, already mostly calmed by the pacifier, wasn't as much work. She walked around the room and sang a little softly. He then began to squirm. Maybe from being away from his twin too long. She quickly changed him too and sat him back into the crib. They didn't seem to be hungry yet, but she knew they would be when they would wake her up again in about three more hours.

She leaned into the crib and gave both a kiss on the forehead. She left the room, lingering only slightly to memorize the beautiful sight of her angels in their crib, before closing the door slowly to return to flop onto her own bed. Caroline didn't even bother wrapping up in the blankets. That would take time and energy she didn't have so she just lay there on top of the covers praying for her babies to sleep peacefully, her husband to come home soon, and for sleep to take her quickly.

* * *

><p>North was quiet to open the door to his house when he got home. He was drenched even from the walk from his car to the door because of the late night storm. He was always home late because his job required him to; being a police officer meant unusual work hours. However, his efforts were in vain as he heard a frantic pitter patter of feet slapping down the stairs like a frightened avalanche. He wasn't even finished locking the door when he felt a little body slam into him and grab his leg.<p>

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" the three-year-old cried.

"Hey, sport. Sorry I woke you up."

"It's okay, Daddy. I was awake anyway."

"Hm?" North mused questioningly.

Theta muttered something unintelligible into his dad's pants leg.

"What was that, Theta?"

"I couldn't sleep."

North sighed. He figured as much.

His wife left for her father's funeral a day's drive away after dinner. North wanted to go with her to pay respects to his father in law, but he just couldn't get off work. That meant that Theta was only home by himself for an hour at most, but the kid was so afraid of being alone.

Why was he such a fearful child? What did he think would ever happen to him? Maybe he would ask South to come over and keep Theta company? He knew his sister hated being called in for babysitting, but this wasn't about her. It was about Theta.

"So you want me to read you a story to help you fall asleep?"

"No."

"How about I…?"

A peel of thunder shook the house and Theta constricted his arms around his father. North could feel him shaking from fright.

"Hey, buddy. Do you want to go for a drive?"

Whenever Theta couldn't sleep, he would drive him around in the car for a little while. That seemed to calm him down. He wasn't sure how well it would work in a storm, but, since the fear was just in his head anyway, maybe it would.

"Is it, uh, safe?"

"Of course, Theta. I wouldn't let you ever get hurt. Ever. Remember what Daddy's job is?"

"Policeman."

"Right! And what do policemen do?"

"Protect people?"

"Right. They protect people. But! Do you know what your Daddy's_ most_ important job is?"

"I thought you were a policeman?" the blonde said.

"I am. And it's a very important job, but I have another job that's a _million_ times more important than that!"

"A million!" his blue-purple eyes wide with awe.

"Yeah! A million! Do you know what the job is?"

"Nu-uh! What is it, Daddy?"

"Taking care of _you_!"

North ruffled his son's hair affectionately. Theta giggled and gripped the hand, bringing it to his cheek to nuzzle against it.

"Okay, Daddy."

North debated letting Theta sit in the front, but he just couldn't do it. He was a law enforcer and habits die hard.

He strapped Theta into his booster seat and gave him a blanket to wrap up in. Driving along the roads, the monotonous muffling of the car and the road worked the sleep spell wonderfully. North tried to help as best he could. He slowed nice and steady to a stop and took turns slow. Theta could feel his eyes growing heavy despite the roaring thunder up above.

It wasn't long until North looked in his rear view mirror to see his son conked out in the seat. Smiling, he made his destination homeward.

When they pulled up into the driveway again, he made sure to shut the car door softly and carefully unbuckled his kid from the seat. Carrying him inside, he placed him in his small bed. He just got his own big boy bed a month ago. Pulling the purple and blue dinosaur patterned sheets over his child, North smiled at his precious, sleeping son -the one who meant more than anything in the world to him.

He turned on the kid's nightlight that cast bright stars on the ceiling. Theta would be in an absolute panic if he woke up and he was alone in darkness.

When North woke up the next morning, he found a little blonde head sticking out of the covers next to him. Guess he must have woken up from the storm again at some point and come in.

North sighed. He'd almost gotten Theta to sleep in his own bed for a full week. There went that streak. Oh, well. The boy didn't have to grow up just yet. For now, he could still be his timid, little Theta, and he could be the big, invincible Daddy. It was okay. In fact, he had to admit, he kinda liked it better this way.

* * *

><p>"Fee! Fie! Fo! Fum! I smell the blood of my little son!" Reginald stomped around the small house, causing the walls to shiver. He had his shoulders hunched over and made his strides longer than usual. In his mind, he thought he looked like a giant. Didn't you know that all giants had awesome facial hair?<p>

"Is he in here?" he continued with the fake, deep voice as he threw open the door to the laundry room.

He looked around and closed it.

"Is he in _here_?"

He threw open the door to the master bedroom. After a moment of over-the-top sniffing, he closed it again to continue his search.

"Fee! Fie! Fo! Fum!" He stomped extra loud as he approached the only room left.

He came to the child's door and heard a small, mischievous giggle on the other side. Aha.

"Fee! Fie! Fo! Fum! I know you're in there! There's nowhere to run!" he laughed what was his interpretation of a giant's laugh. As much as his childhood sucked, he was loving being a dad, even though, according to the government, the kid didn't even exist.

"Is anyone in here?"

"Nobody!" a small voice said.

Reginald chuckled.

"Nobody _who_?"

The kid tried to cover his giggle, but he wasn't doing too good of a job at it.

"Knock knock?" Reggie began.

"Who's dere?" Nobody answered.

"Interrupting giant!"

"Interrupting giant wh-"

"ROOOAR!"

"Oh, no! I'm not going to let you in, shizno!" the kid giggled.

Reggie mused to himself. That was his son's made-up word. He wasn't sure what it meant exactly, but it sounded adorable coming from a two-year-old.

"Knock knock!" came the tiny voice of his son.

Amused, Reginald played along.

"Who is it?"

"Carwot!"

"Carrot who?"

"Carwots and broccolis are icky! Hahahaha!" the kid erupted into unrestrained, high-pitched laughter.

Reginald laughed with him. Sure the joke didn't make any sense, but he was only two. He was a smart kid and would get the hang of it in no time. Besides, there was no way he didn't pass on his refined sense of humor to the little tyke.

"Knock knock!"

"Who's dere?"

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock knock!"

There was a pause before the kid replied, "Who's dere?"

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock knock!"

"Papa! I know it's reawly you."

"No, it isn't! It's banana!"

"…banana who?"

"Knock knock."

"Papa, that's not how you do a joke."

"You're right. You're supposed to say, 'Who's there?'"

A little sigh came through the door.

"Who's dere."

"Orange."

"Orange who?"

"Orange you glad I didn't say 'banana'?"

There was silence as the kid must have been mulling over a new concept in his head as if humor was something to be calculated. The silence was prolonged, and Reggie started to get bored.

"Can I come in, Gary?"

The door opened just a crack before Reginald burst in and scooped his child up. He spun him around all the while the kid laughed with glee, and, when he was done, hugged him close.

"Papa, your mustache tickles!"

"It does? Are you sure?"

Reggie blew a raspberry on the side of the boy's face which made him squeal.

"Yes! Yes! It's tickly!"

"How can you be so sure, lad? Maybe it's only tickly on that side? What about the other side?"

"No, Papa!" he half-heartedly tried to push himself away but still unable to escape the mustached tickle giant.

"I think it's a fair test, don't you? We have to make sure!"

Then he blew raspberries on the boy's other cheek. The kid's high pitched glee saturated the room with mirth, and it couldn't help but make his father smile.

"Papa! Papa! Knock knock!" he bounced.

"Who's there, poppet?"

"I love."

"I love who?"

"I love _you_!" the kid announced before flinging his arms around his papa's neck.

Reginald smiled as he hugged the best decision of his life.

"I love you too, son."

* * *

><p>"Dad, what are you working to repair?"<p>

"This humvee. It's been out of commission for a long time because it has so many problems. I tinker around with it when I have nothing else to do. Gives me time to think."

"What do you think about?"

"Oh, I don't know, D. Life? Stuff? You?"

York reached for a different sized wrench in hopes that would help him get this nasty screw he'd been laboring on loose.

"Why would you think about something other than the task at hand? That seems to be a very inefficient way to use your time."

"Thinking about my son is a waste of time?"

"When it distracts you from your current priority. If you are repairing the vehicle, you should focus completely upon that. If you are thinking about your offspring, you should focus completely upon that. That will ensure maximum productivity."

York rolled out from under the car and sat up.

"You're right, D. I should be focusing on the most important thing right now."

He put the wrench back in the toolbox and wiped his hands off on his shirt. Walking over he kneeled down to look right into his son's green eyes.

"What would you suggest to ensure the most productive quality time with my son?"

Delta retained a neutral expression despite the internal joy he found in the attention he was receiving and the blatant declaration by his father that he was the highest of his priorities.

"If you would take me to get ice cream that would ensure my peak happiness as well as include a ten minute walk in which to have conversation. Waiting in line at the shop will take approximately four minutes. The return trip would take ten minutes. That is, with room for variables, a half hour of quality time. The cost would be $3.99 or $4.19 with tax. Is that expense cost effective?"

"Delta, there isn't a cost I wouldn't pay. You are priceless and immeasurable, D. You're my son. Nothing is worth more than you, kiddo!"

He hoisted the lad onto his shoulders, gripping the kid's ankles for insurance. He wasn't sure where the kid learned to act like this. He acted as if life was a logic puzzle –cold and unfeeling. York wondered if it stemmed from the accident that killed his wife and Delta's mom.

He hoped what he said sunk into the kid's mind. He'd been trying to get the kid to realize that life was something enthralling and organic, something to enjoy and take by the horns. Maybe the kid would grow out of it? He was still really young, after all.

The father headed in the direction of the ice cream shop but took a turn from the path he normally took.

"Dad, you are going on an inefficient path. Do you not remember the destination?"

"Of course I do, D. I'm just going the scenic route."

"It will take longer."

"Exactly."

Delta remained quiet as he mulled this over in his head for a moment.

"But, I don't understand. Wouldn't one want to get to their destination in the fastest…"

"Not when it means getting to spend time with someone you love along the way."

"But…logically…" Delta stammered, conflicting data reeling in his head.

He sighed curtly before whispering, "I'm confused."

York chuckled.

"It's part of what makes us human, D."

He couldn't see the kid's reaction, but he couldn't wait until they got to the ice cream shop and he bought Delta an extra scoop with extra sprinkles. He couldn't wait to see the kid's face as his mind would undoubtedly be blown once again and the only explanation offered was that he was worth it.

**I had so much fun writing these. I think my favorite ones to write for were Wyoming and Gamma and Tex and Omega. They're just so great! I just have a headcanon that Wyoming would be a really great dad. I don't know. He's just so goofy and, in the series, I die a little inside when Wyoming dies and Gamma says, "Reggieeeee." I just can't handle. **

**All in all, I regret nothing! It's about time I wrote something not dark and gloomy! However, the dark and gloomy shall return with the next couple chapters. **

**TWO MORE CHAPTERS LEFT! AAAAAAHHHHH! *faints* The one year anniversary of this fic is coming up soon. I will tentatively push for the last chapter to be released on that date (March 30th). (Although, I have been known to not follow my own timeline, but, if that happens, I will more than likely add more chapters so that's good for you. XD) You'll all just have to wait and see. Dun dun DUN.**

**Anyway, please let me know what you think! Review if you so desire.**

**Looking forward to it.**


	13. Ages 20 to 26: Part 4

**Okay, so this chapter ended up being shorter than I thought it would be, but it would make the next chapter too long to just add it to that one. So, I figured I'd just update with a shorter chapter earlier than keep you in suspense for who knows how long. I'm still not sure if I'm going to keep to my goal of getting this story wrapped up by the 30th but it looks possible now.**

**Thank you to freelancer38 for faving and all the support on here and DA!**

**Thank you to those who reviews:**

**Toaneo07 Ver2.0 -I'm glad you enjoyed it!:)  
>Patient131071 -Heehee. I know! O'Malley is just such a fun character!<br>glittering wolf -Yay! Omega and Gamma's stories were my favorites too!  
>The Happy Riolu -Even I was giggling while writing this because of the fluff! Heehee!<br>missmoney101 -I will think about it. I really want to get back to my other RvB story I started that's basically a wing!verse RvB, but I will keep it in mind. Thank you! :)**

**I do not own Red vs Blue. RvB belongs to Rooster Teeth.**

Delta opened his green eyes at the sound of sniffling. He was an incredibly light sleeper. Old habits almost made him close his eyes again and ignore the sound until he remembered he wasn't at home. Any noise that was made on the army base during the night was probably some sort of night training op that just enforced his father's strict instructions to stay inside at night. Crying, no, _weeping_ was generally not something that took place on the base. He jolted back to the present when he observed his surroundings once more. He was still in the basement of the house he was brought to by Uncle Maine.

Though Delta might have had the mind of a genius, he still possessed the body and endurance of a four-year-old. He had fallen asleep.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he observed a familiar sight. His young cousin, Theta, the offspring of his father's younger brother, North, was hunched in a corner. He held his arms up in front of his head protectively with eyes squinted shut as O'Malley, their oldest cousin, was harassing him –again.

"Stop hitting yourself~! Stop hitting yourself~!" O'Malley teased as he grabbed his smaller cousin's hands and forced him to slap himself in the face.

Theta put up no fight and just let the waterworks flow. Delta got up and walked over to intervene.

"Stop distressing him, O'Malley. Surely you can find another activity in which you can appropriately outlet your energy."

"How about you shut up, fool! I am the world's most dastardly villain! I am the bane of your cousin-ly existence! He is just trembling in the fear that I deserve!" He laughed and continued to annoy Theta.

"I must bring it to your attention that it is entirely illogical that you, at the age of five years old, are in any way infamous nor are you of any reason to be feared. …I might also add that I have a superior intellect and am in no way, as you so ineloquently supposed, a 'fool,'" Delta crossed his arms and dared O'Malley challenge him. "So, as I said previously but will now reiterate in simpler language so that my point may in no way be misconstrued: Leave. Theta. Alone."

"Now, now, big cousin."

The smooth voice sent chills up Delta's spine as a small hand came to rest on his shoulder.

"What doesn't make sense is family fighting. It is as Grandfather said to my father, family should not be separated. We cousins should really stick together."

Delta was not overly acquainted with anger. He kept a level head and chose to distance himself to only observe much of the life around him. However, there was something about that boy that kindled a revulsion Delta had never known.

Delta forced his hands to uncurl from the fists that had formed at the mere sound of his voice. It was irrational. The child had never harmed him in any way. He simply suggested his input and repeated ideologies –however debatable their morality. Yes, it was illogical to dislike his cousin, but, somehow, Delta could not easily dismiss this feeling.

"I find it questionable that you hold in high regard the moral advice your father heeds bearing in mind he has committed murder and several counts of kidnapping."

Sigma turned Delta to face him and angled his thin brows innocently as he addressed him.

"Hasn't that been necessary? We're all together now! We're a family! I wouldn't of met you if it weren't for him!" he pulled Delta into a hug which he did _not_ return. Delta remained stiff and unbendable.

There wasn't a sheet of paper long enough upon which he could list the number of things wrong with all of Sigma's statements morally.

"You are right, cousin, on all counts except two. Indeed, your father has gathered us together, and, yes, we probably would not have chanced upon each other in different circumstances. However, his deeds were _not_ necessary in any conceivable way, and, _somehow_, I am unable to conjure up any semblance of regret or remorse in regards to the possibility that I might never have met you otherwise."

Sigma might, for a split second, looked confused and hurt, but the emotion was replaced with an ecstatic smile as they heard the front door slam shut.

"Father!"

A large mass lumbered down the staircase to the basement. He kneeled down to embrace his son that ran into his arms and nuzzled into his neck. The bags that he carried in his large hands were dropped in favor of holding his son.

Delta instinctively grabbed Theta's hand and stepped protectively in front of him to protect him from both O'Malley and Maine. Not that Maine ever tried to hurt them before or there being any possible way Delta could protect Theta if Maine ever did try anything, but Theta was more than thankful at the gesture.

"You got me my favorite snack! Father, you're the greatest!" Sigma said upon digging through the bags.

Maine ruffled his son's red hair and grabbed the second bag to head over to the crib in the corner. Eta and Iota had been crying on and off like babies do. They craved the attention that no one was able to pay them since the only adult was gone at the store the past few hours. He changed their diapers and fed them their bottles, cradling their heads with care and laying them back into their crib with caution. His made certain to be careful with his hands that seemed so giant when holding the infants. It seemed all too easy, one slip up, to crush them.

O'Malley, who had grown tired of tormenting Theta, had retreated to the corner to play with Gary. They had been working on a book of riddles in a coloring book Maine bought for them. Sigma helped them most of the time, but he was preoccupied with attempting to gain the total attention of his father. O'Malley didn't particularly like his uncle. Neither did Gamma. So they played quietly in the corner where they were out of his way.

Gamma talked about running away, but he didn't know where he would go. O'Malley liked the idea, but he knew exactly where he would go: back to his mom. He missed her. He missed bossing her around and making her crazy. For O'Malley, that was home. This…this was just wasn't, but he would make do. Until he could go back home with his mom, he would deal the best he could…and hopefully have a little fun along the way.

Sigma slunk over, appearing out of this air as he tended to do. There was no use in bothering his father now while he was attending to Eta and Iota. The infants required all of his attention and they smelled.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Gamma said automatically.

Gamma was hard to read. Sigma didn't know if that meant that he didn't want him to help or if he was just kidding.

"Ugh! I can't figure this puzzle out! No one should be able to stump the great O'Malley! If I cannot solve it, I will simply go to the fool's house and burn it to the ground! Ahahaha!"

"Maybe I can help, cousin?"

Sigma sat down. Puzzles were one of his favorite things. It was a challenge. It was a test.

Theta finally seemed to calm. He still couldn't stand Maine's presence, but at least Delta was there.

"Delta?"

"Yes."

"Are we orphans?"

"Yes, Theta. We are orphans." Delta restrained himself from spurting out the definition of the word and explaining how they fit into the context for further clarification, but he could tell that Theta just didn't need to hear that.

"Will we get adopted like in the stories? I like those stories."

"Of course, cousin." Sigma appeared out of nowhere. "My father will adopt all of you. We are going to be a big, happy family!"

He hugged Theta and the child took the touch as comforting, being a huggy child himself. Delta stiffened but didn't intervene.

"Well, I…I guess. But I miss my Daddy."

"My father will be father to all of us! We will be brothers! He will take care of us, and you will have nothing to worry about. You will never be alone!"

"I…well, maybe…?" Theta started, he wasn't sure if he completely agreed, but he did like he idea of never being alone.

"That is entirely illogical." Delta spoke and Sigma sighed. "There is no way legally adopting all of us will somehow change our biological standings. We are the children of our parents' siblings and so we are cousins. Uncle Maine will always be our uncle, except for you, Sigma, in which case he is your birth father. Not to mention that if your father did attempt to legally adopt us he would be quickly found out and incarcerated for his crimes. Uncle Maine will never adopt us so that is entirely out of the question. Stop confusing Theta with your unreasonable scenarios."

"Must you be so cold, cousin?" Sigma put a hand over his heart in mock pain. "I was trying to comfort Theta, not confuse him. I was telling the truth. My father means only well by us. He will earn your trust eventually. You must only trust me."

"I disagree."

Suddenly, there was a thundering upstairs. It was so loud that they didn't even entertain the idea of a thunderstorm as its cause. Someone was trying to break in. Delta's heart started to pound. They were going to be rescued! They were going to get out of here!

He adjusted his grip on Theta's hand to make sure it was tight and gave a hard look at him with his green eyes. He didn't say anything for fear of Maine, but he hoped that he communicated enough through the expression to let Theta know that he should be alert and ready. Anything could happen.

And what did happen was louder than they anticipated. The window in the back of the house had been shattered.

Maine leapt into action. He, put the babies back in their crib, gave Sigma a quick grunt to stay put and sprinted up the stairs, slamming the door to the basement closed, leaving the basement silent and full of seven pairs of wide, blinking eyes.

**Because we don't ever know what's going on inside Maine's head other than it's tearing him apart, I took some liberties to explore what I would imagine all the AIs interacting would be. Because Delta and Theta seemed to get along and the bad friends trio of Omega, Gamma, and Sigma seemed to be friends, I played on that alot too.**

**I never guessed how much I would like writing for Sigma. He's just so...creepy. I kinda had to have him explain Maine's motives because that's part of his purpose in the canon: to speak for Maine. **

**I also decided to make it so Maine is nice and caring to the children. After all, even in the canon, he's doing everything for his AIs so they can reach metastability. He, in a way, sacrificed himself for them. I kinda think that's one of my headcanons that Maine became the Meta: he was too nice to object to Sigma. After all, he took a bullet for Carolina in season 9 when it was clearly more important for him to have gotten the briefcase back to base. In Maine's mind, others come first. That is, until Sigma and the other AIs started to destroy his mind.**

**I really, really, really like writing for Delta! Especially angry!Delta. ****I kind of picture Delta as being protective of Theta even though that sort of violates his pure logic persona. I knew that Delta, because of his actions, seemed kinda OOC, but I think that after being around York for so long that even in the canon his sense of right and wrong is kinda skewed. After all, he does seem to pick up a sense of humor as well as almost blatantly telling Wash to shoot South in revenge. **

**Because of Sigma and Delta's "personalities", I don't picture them getting along well. In the canon it's a high probability that Delta even points out that when he's captured into the Meta, he might be persuaded to help the Meta because he considers himself neutral. However, as I mentioned, after hanging around in York's head, I would like to think that he retained some of his spunk. **

**I'm sorry if the AI don't act like the children they're supposed to be. It was just too hard to maintain their personalities and make them act like children. So, I know it's not really believable that any kids at their ages would be having the deep conversations with such complicated dialogue as them, but, hey, it's fanfiction. **

**Anyway, I'm glad that so many of you reviewed last time! I hope I did not disappoint The next chapter is the LAST CHAPTER! I'm probably going to cry. This will be my second completed fanfiction story on here! I don't know if I'll be able to handle this. Anyway, thanks again! **

**Looking forward to it!**


	14. Conclusion

**I meant to post this yesterday on the fic's birthday (Yup! This story is one year old now!), but I wasn't pleased with it until I had my beta (my brother) look over it. I'm sorry it's so short and so long-coming, but that's just the way it was. **

****Thank you glittering wolf for your review on the last chapter and your regular reviews of the other chapters previous! Thank you so much!  
><strong>**Thank you to the Guest for getting my subtle Hetalia reference. (Heehee~ I regret nothing!)  
><strong>**A big thank you also to kcrb0202 who not only faved my story but reviewed practically every chapter and read it all in one sitting!****

**I do not own Red vs Blue. RvB belongs to Rooster Teeth.**

Wash stepped through the wreckage and broken glass of what _was_ the back door. His foot was smarting now from kicking it down, but he managed to limp through the kitchen and get to the knife drawer just before Maine barreled up the stairs. Looking back on it, he was most likely bringing knives to a gunfight, but it was all he had. He actually didn't even intend on fighting his brother anyway.

Maine stared him down now on the main level. Thankfully, for what may have been Wash's only piece of luck, he was unarmed.

Wash stood back and pointed the knife at him, making it clear that he wouldn't use it unless it was necessary.

"I'm going to call the police, Maine. I'm gonna call the police and they're gonna take you down. And, this nightmare will be finished."

He walked slowly over to the ancient, landline phone that was plugged into the

wall. He left his cell phone with South.

"It's over, brother. You'll finally get the help you need, and those kids will get homes. And then-"

The phone began to ring in David's hand. He ignored it and let it go to voicemail.

"Why hello, David."

Wash's heart stopped.

How in the _world_ did he know that he was here? Somehow, it just seemed like one of those things that would happen to him though.

He reached over and hit 'answer' then 'speaker.' He wasn't letting Maine sneak up on him for something as stupid as a phone distracting him.

"The old man himself. I should be glad. I _should _be."

"Yes, I have realized it's been a while since we've spoken, son. Can I still call you son?"

The southern drawl made bile rise in his throat.

"No. You cannot," he barked, "Whoever it was, you or mom, gave me the name David. The least you can do it use it."

There was a pause and he could almost see his father nodding. He was accepting the rules of this game and arranging the cards in his hand.

"I am certain you have a lot questions, David."

"Just one: how do I turn off this speaker?"

Wash fumbled around with the phone receiver. It was harder than it seemed when he couldn't look to see what he was doing. He wasn't taking his eyes off Maine for a second.

Maine growled. He wasn't happy that his father had the nerve to call, to speak, to _communicate language_ in his presence!

"Well, and my prodigal son returns," he said, as he heard Maine's rumbling. "I have been wanting to speak to you for quite some time, Jermaine."

All that earned was a hiss.

"I'm sure you must not have a very high opinion of me, but give me the chance to clarify some of my actions that you may have been too young to understand. I was proud of you, son."

David was just as shocked as Jermaine.

"I was always proud of you. Perhaps I was too proud. I wanted you to be perfect. I saw what you were capable of. I only disciplined you because I cared about you the most. You grew up to have an ambition that everyone, the whole world should envy. You never let anyone get in your way. You are strong. You are one of the strongest people I know. I have never been more proud, and I love you, son."

There was a long, silent pause before David snapped.

"That is the biggest load of crap I've heard -_ever_! Of all time! You're a liar and a horrible father! You never loved him! Or any of us! You abused him! You _never_ loved him!"

Maine took an aggressive step forward and growled fiercely, this time at Wash. David couldn't believe it. After all this time, two to three seconds of "explanation" was all it took for Maine to believe their abusive father?

Why did their father call anyway? What could he possibly gain by having Maine on his side? Then it hit him. It must have had something to do with the kids. And Wash was in the way.

"Jermaine, I am an old man now. And I would love to meet my grandkids. I will die happy if you put your poor father at ease with the knowledge that his beloved son has forgiven him. If you love me, please kill David."

"Wait. _What_?!"

The reaction was immediate. Maine reached on top of the cabinet in the kitchen to bring down the gun he'd been hiding. He took half a second to ready it then shot.

"N- Ugh!"

David fell to his knees and abandoned his knife in favor of trying to stop the bleeding. The shot hit him practically bull's-eye in the chest. And _oh_ was he in pain. He tried to back up against the wall as Maine slowly paced over to finish the job.

"Father?" A child's voice called from behind the door that locked the entrance to downstairs. He must have been alarmed at the sound of the gunshot.

Maine hesitated and let out a growl of concern.

"We will move the children far away. Attend to the matter at hand!" their dad commanded. "Kill him, Jermaine!"

Maine loomed over Wash as the length of the blonde's life began to tick down to seconds.

"You know, Maine. Why wait?" He labored for breath. "Before Dad gets a hold of them and does the same to them that he did to you! Why don't you move them right now?"

"It's him!"

The door flew open as a future genius must have learned how to pick locks from his father. The children, except the infants, came crashing into the room. Wash recognized the loudest voice being Theta's as he and Delta rushed to his side.

David went into panic mode at first because he knew that they were in the line of fire, but, when he looked at Maine, he could literally see him battling the conflict out in his head. On the one hand, Maine had the only way of gaining approval from his dad or he had the love of his _son_ and adopted sons/nephews. The children would be scarred for life if Maine shot Wash in front of them. Jermaine's head jerked from side to side as he was torn between what he should do. The kids yelling at the blood and pulling at his legs and crying out from confusion.

"What's going on?!" called the scratchy voice over the phone.

Those were all the words Jermaine and David's father got out before David pulled the phone down and dialed three numbers. Grunting in pain as he felt his life leeching out of him, he ripped the phone from the phone jack to ensure his dad couldn't call back before a white light took his vision.

Wash was in court… again. A familiar sight, but it wasn't the type of court he had to endure when he was a kid. He didn't withhold any of the truth which made him guilty of trying to take the law into his own hands. He learned the judge and jury didn't take kindly to an attempted vigilante especially when the attempted vigilante indirectly traumatized some kids who shouldn't have ever seen a man almost bleed to death.

He was nineteen years old. The law said he was a big kid. He was going to big kid prison. He was bitter about it to say the least. He was the good guy in this, after all. He regretted none of his actions though. The only thing he regretted was that his father wasn't joining him, his brother, and his sister in jail too. Double jeopardy and the lack of evidence in fact that the phone conversation didn't record once it was answered. Worst phone ever.

Because no good deed goes unpunished, right! All David's siblings were either dead or in jail now, and, as if irony wasn't present enough, Maine being arrested meant that Sigma had no other relatives to care for him either. Sigma and all his cousins were now being shoved through the foster system. It was like history was repeating itself in the same carousel of suffering.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who suffered into a man. He was named David, like the King of Judah, but he never knew who named him, and no one really called him that anymore. They called him Wash, like the act of cleansing. And his story included characters that all tried to do the right thing.

After all:

She protected her family.

He liberated his family.

He tried to keep a smile.

He protected her.

She protected herself.

He followed the rules.

She left her family.

He built his own.

So how else could their stories end but by saying that they all lived happily ever after? But, then again, lying wouldn't be the right thing.

Let's just say that they were a _family_.

And that even through darkness and pain, they made _some_ good happen.

Because if you ever wondered why you're here… I think that might be it.

**Well, that's all folks. The story that I started one year ago yesterday is now, finally complete. I can't believe I've actually written a completed fanfiction or even stuck to writing something like this for a whole year!**

**So this chapter was particularly hard to write considering that there is no Alpha character in my story. I needed Maine to have a sort of make-up with the Director because I needed him to have to try to kill Wash like in the canon, but I needed a reason. I was really struggling when I remembered that Maine is pretty much a psychopath and wouldn't catch the flaws in logic that the Director presented him. Just like in the canon, the Director says that they were going to let Maine see the Alpha, but they really didn't know where he was anyway. They just needed Wash dead and Maine restrained. It was the only way to go about that so I tried to incorporate that into the fic. I also tried to make Maine's concern for his son and nephews interfere with his want of affection from his father and that is what causes him to malfunction just as in the canon it was Alpha merging back with his fragments. I also needed Wash arrested when he didn't really do anything wrong in this one because he left South alive. So I hope my reason was good enough. I also tried to touch on a bit of the bitter!Wash we see in seasons 7-8 of RvB after Wash is arrested in canon. All in all, the whole keep it kinda canon in an AU thing was challenging but fun to write. I enjoyed writing this fic and I really hope this ending chapter resolves it for you.  
><strong>**  
><em>And thank you<em>!  
>I seriously couldn't have done it without the reviewers and favs and alerts and hits and other encouragement. This has been my most successful story so far, <em>by far<em>. I'm so glad that I've even had consistant reviewers too that kept bringing me up and keeping me motivated every chapter! I also have many people who gave my story a place on their list of faves. I, myself, don't fav things often so I know what an honor it is for my story to be faved by someone. Also, all you who alerted but neither faved nor reviewed, don't think I didn't forget about you. At least for me, I've alterted stories but never reviewed yet I felt like their biggest fan. I understand. ****  
><strong>

**Thank you for putting up with my sporadic updating, crazy theories, twisted AU, dark images, long author's notes, and attempts at fluff. Thank you to all of you! I'm so happy that you stuck around and that I have finally brought you the conclusion of A_nd Our Dad Was Leonard Church_. **

**What's next, you ask?  
>Well, there will not be a sequel. I feel that this story is just best as a stand-alone. However, I am not done with the RvB fandom yet. I have a crossover that I will shamelessly promote as I have already started and now plan to finish. It's technically a crossover with the book, <em>Maximum Ride<em>. However, if you know RvB, I wrote it so it can be a sort of wing!verse AU. So basically, Freelancers with wings. I know, right? I can't get enough of the Freelancers. Anyway, that is next on my agenda. I can't promise when the next chapter will be up for that, but it won't be crazy long. (And if you are a Hetalia fan, I invite you to check out my Hetalia fics. Just another shameless plug.)**

**All in all, thank you all so very, very much for reading!  
>Happy Easter~!<strong>

**Looking forward to it. **


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